Good Kid, MAD CITY
by IWLTxo
Summary: This isn't a love story. This is merely a story about how two boys, Sirius and Remus, opposite in every way, find each other in the mad city London. Where they defy all odds and instead find love, empathy and someone to confide in. But there's an obstacle and her name is Dorcas Meadows. Slash, DM/SB, RL/SB, sexual content.
1. Fresh From Devon

**__Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters that aren't OCs.

**A/N: **This story is dedicated to Megan, my best friend on this site. Happy Birthday you amazing little hufflepuff lover, you wanted a Remus/Sirius love story well here you have it. I hope you have a great birthday xxxxxxx

Now, let the RL/SB romance commence.

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_Chapter One : Fresh From Devon_

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All the streets opened up into one another; interwoven, like a spider's web. And in East Devon, everything was quite fragile, like a spider's web. The road in particular that we are focused on today is a long, winding road, spanning for at least fifty houses without once curving or turning. The houses weren't all that large, but they weren't small either. They were medium sized. The street had pebbles littering the curbs, which were made up of uneven slates of stone.

Scattered haphazardly were street lights, tall and towering with flickering little lights at the top. From a distance, one might even mistake it as a particularly large firefly, beaming and shining the street up. If only such a small thing could really do that.

The houses were like clones of one another, though a house might pop up on the street with some sort of variation to all the other houses: pink painted fences instead of white, gnomes in the small front gardens, flower beds blooming with dandelions and daffodils and so on.

The houses were all conventionally three bedroom, though some might have been turned into four bedrooms or two bedrooms, the last possibly being used for storage; whatever the parents deemed best. You see, in East Devon, life was and still is pretty simple. You went to school, got your grades, got the job you've always wanted, met the girl or boy of your dreams and had kids. It was simple.

There was one particular house though, on the long winding street. It was plain; painted cream, with a light grey fence and one gnome sitting near the door. The flower bed was neatly trimmed and flourished with beautiful flowers of yellows, oranges and purples.

Residing within the plain, but pretty house were three people; mum, dad and son. Mum was called Charlotte, dad was called John and son was called Remus.

They were a happy family; they weren't the richest but they got by. John worked in editing newspaper articles for the Daily Prophet and Charlotte was a part-time French teacher in a middle school, since she was French and all.

And Remus was a happy child. He worked vehemently in school and rose to the top, as well as having one very good friend called Edgar who he practiced chess with and played games like _you're it!_ with.

All in all, Remus was very satisfied with his life; and like a good kid, he never envisioned how free life would be in a fun city, a mad city.

A mad city like _London._

Remus was sixteen when it happened, and was no longer a child, but instead a "young adult" or so he liked to be called. People still called him a kid. John had told Remus time and time again that he's even called a kid, despite his almost forty-year-old age.

Anyway, back onto the topic of why Remus moved from such a good city to a crazy one: John had been at the pub with some of his colleagues when a fight broke out between two strangers. Being the responsible adult he was, John Lupin called the police. As he and his friends tried to split up the fight, he saw a flash of a knife.

The police found weapons on Greyback as well as drugs on him. It was quite terrifying.

The victim had died in hospital; the flash of the knife John had seen had been very real, and also at the time had been buried in the victim's back.

Three months later, there was a hearing at the court. John testified against Fenrir Greyback; telling the police that the other man had indeed been carrying a knife with him and had initiated the fight first. Greyback posted bail to keep out of jail whilst the courts were in deliberation - whether to sentence him ten years or longer. It seemed like he would be going prison for a long time...

It was an ordinary day when it happened. Remus had been walking home and had just left Edgar, who had to pass through a small road to get to another block. It was dark, and they had just come back from Art Club, a beautiful program designed to seek students with an inner creative spirit. Remus was as creative as they came.

Only, when it happened, all that creativity left him. All that remained was petrification, the bone-wracking fear and fright. He couldn't move when he saw Greyback advancing towards him. It was in that moment that Remus hated where he lived; with its few CCTV cameras, and none whatsoever in the block he lived in.

Greyback had a knife, about eight inches and flashing in the full moon's glowing brilliant light.

The scream was what got the attention of the neighbours. They didn't get to see Greyback's fleeing figure but they did see Remus, bleeding all over the concrete and shaking. He had his hands pressed firmly against the wound; it seemed like hours before someone came, and by then, Remus was slipping further and further from the living world and into the dark hell of death.

His mother ran towards him, faster than the ambulance adjacent to her, and fell to her knees, screaming and crying.

Of that night, all Remus remembers, still to this day almost a year later, was whispering to his mother in fluent French, 'It's alright. I'm alright mama.'

And so they moved. Maybe they moved because East Devon had too many bad memories, and too much fear. Or maybe Remus and his family just wanted to recreate themselves. He wasn't completely sure, even now. The initial move was a month later, during the summer, to London. John got a job exchange, and Charlotte simply needed to find a job teaching in a middle school.

As for Remus, well, he just needed to adjust. After Greyback's attack, he had spent four weeks in hospital and had undergone four surgeries. His mother had spent the whole time with him, holding his hand and feeding him soup. She was such a worrier. John, on the other hand, had spent the first few nights wallowing away in guilt and self-hate. He had drunk himself into a stupor and cried when he came to visit his son - Remus had been lying on the bed with wires in and out of his body, drips keeping him nourished and alive.

Even now, three months later, John Lupin still blamed himself. Even now, all the way in September. Even now, half way across the country - in London.

The mad city, for mad people and even madder teenagers. It was surely not a place for such a good kid like Remus Lupin, right?

_xo_

Remus woke up to the shrill calling of his mother and the alarm; simultaneously shredding his ear drums to pieces with all their shrieking and beeping.

'Wake up Remus!' His mum kept repeating. 'You'll be late for your first day.'

His first day. His first day of Sixth Form, and he'd never been so nervous before. It was one thing to change schools in a city you'd always lived in, but to go to a new college in a different city - the infamous London - Remus thought that he deserved to be a little scared.

He groaned when she started shouting at him in French. 'Oui mama. Je suis éveillé,' he called to her, turning over and burying his face into his pillow after he told her once more, a lot louder this time, that he was indeed awake.

Life in London, so far, was going good if you were thinking along the lines of financial trouble the Lupins might have encountered after moving to such an expensive part of England. His father had been transferred to an assistant editor, a lower ranking job than before but with about the same pay, surprisingly. Charlotte was also taking a short training course for teaching full-time French in middle school, which didn't take any training at all really. Besides, she was fluent in French and was obviously very talented when working with children.

Her story with John was a bittersweet one. She had been sixteen when she came to this country with her elder brother Pierre and her mother Clarice. She had learnt English and when she was eighteen, had gotten a job in a supermarket. It was then that for two years, every week, she saw John Lupin. And for two years, every week, he flirted endlessly with her until she resigned to his tiring pestering and let him take her out for a date.

And from then, the rest was history.

'Remus!'

'I'm coming,' he called again. Remus Lupin stood up and looked in the full length mirror opposite him. He went gym three to four times a week for a few hours and had been doing so since the attack in Devon. Consequently, Remus had built a rather impressive physique, if one compared his frame to how it was before. Though still lithe, his muscles now were prominent and so obviously fluid and supple. His hair was longer, falling into his eyes and glittering golden reddish brown in the light. He had many different shades in his hair. And his gorgeous glowing amber eyes shone with an intensity that shook every bone of the person on the receiving end.

He had changed. He wasn't that little boy that was best friends with Edgar Bones anymore; he was different now. Curter, colder and so much more distrusting.

He shook his blond-brown hair out of his eyes and straightened up. 'You can do this Remus, you can do it.'

Within half an hour, he was showered and dressed, and making his way down the stairs. Remus was greeted with the smell of his mother's mouth-watering, delicious pancakes. He almost tripped with his eagerness to rush down the stairs and devour those gorgeous pancakes.

'When was the last time you made pancakes, Charlotte?' John was saying from the kitchen. When Remus entered, he sighed in satisfaction. It smelt so good, and before he knew it he was licking his lips and barging his father out of the way to get to the pancakes set on the breakfast table.

Remus looked like his father, a split image. Right from the hair shades of complimenting colours to the length of his nose and the glistening amber eyes. He had his mother's lips though; full and red. 'She made them last month, remember? When I was accepted by Hogwarts Academy.'

'I make them whenever there's reason for celebration.' She said, placing four large pancakes in front of her husband and kissing him briefly on the cheek.

'What's the reason for celebration this time?'

'John!' Charlotte shouted playfully, swatting at him with her table cloth. She reached over and placed Remus's plate (with a staggering seven enormous pancakes) before him and kissed his hair, inhaling the scent and smiling.

Almost immediately, Remus grabbed the chocolate sauce and drizzled it all over the pancakes. 'Merci, mama,' he said as he squirted the sauce.

'Are you nervous for school?' his mother asked, looking up from her pancakes and watching her son and husband chomp down their food.

Remus was about to shake his head, but knew his parents would suss out his lie in an instant, the way they always knew when he was lying. He nodded once. 'The thing you need to remember,' said John, looking up from his plate and staring his son directly in the eye, 'is that you're smarter than all of them. Yeah, you didn't get in by paying the governors thousands of pounds. But you got in by passing all the tests with amazing results. And you're going to stay in Hogwarts and show the school just how fucking smart you are, got it Remus?'

He paused for a second but nodded when his father's gaze turned steely. 'Yes dad.'

He turned to his mother and she smiled lovingly at him. 'Vous pouvez le faire.'

'Je sais que.' Remus answered. He knew he could do it. His mother didn't need to keep telling him, as endearing as it was.

'Stop! Stop! I thought we agreed? None of this chip-chop language at the breakfast table whilst I'm in the room,' cried John, shaking his head and staring each of them in the eye.

'Imbécile,' murmured Charlotte, winking at her son and laughing when he grinned.

An alarm sounded and his mother jumped, stumbling a little and tightening her facial expression. 'I don't want you to be late on your first day,' she told her son, stroking his face and kissing him. 'Come on, in ten minutes you need to be down at the car.' Then she bustled off to change. She had called in sick and was still in her favourite pair of cuddly pyjamas that she got from her son eight years ago. She didn't want to miss her son's first day. She loved him, _owed him _too much.

Remus prepared the paperwork he had received from Hogwarts Academy earlier, combed his hair and got a fiver from his father. 'Listen son,' John had said sternly and solemnly. 'You be the amazing young lad you are an' don't let anyone bring you down, got'it?'

The light haired boy nodded and before he knew it, had thrown his arms around his father, in a rough manly embrace. 'Je t'aime.' He murmured quietly, releasing his father and shaking himself a little mentally to get a hold of himself. He waited outside the door whilst his mother and father exchanged brief kisses and whispered secrets and nothings.

The car drive with his mum was a bit awkward, Remus had to admit. She kept leaning over to smooth his hair, peck his cheek or confidently tell him how to get by with London kids.

It was a twenty minute drive from his home, considering the rather thin throng of traffic. When the car pulled up, not close to the gorgeous large school but not necessarily far either; he turned to his mother, appraising the scenery behind her head.

She smiled at him. 'You remember how things were a few months ago, in Devon?'

He nodded and affectionately touched her hand briefly. 'Oui mama, I remember.'

Charlotte smiled up at her son. She started talking in French in a low, quiet voice. 'Life's not going to be like that here in London. It's wilder, and harsher and so much harder to get by in. But you remember what the game is about. Focus on your grades and getting the best ones to go to the best University. You do that for me, alright?'

'Oui.' Remus said quickly, more reluctant than ever to deal with his mother's emotional spouts of absolute bullshit. What did she know about life in London? She was French, had spent half her life there, lived in Devon for the other few years.

'Je t'aime tellement, mon bébé.' She kissed his forehead and started the car up again. Remus got out whilst he could and waved at her, watching his mother spiral out of view and thinking that he loved her so much too.

The air smelt weirder here, in the great mad city of London. It smelt stale, like it was getting rustier and rustier by the minute. He shook his head to himself and started following the signs and the distant sight of the school.

When Remus got to the school, he was overwhelmed by how large it was. There were lower years attending the school too. Years Seven up the Eleven if years Twelve and Thirteen weren't included; it was cute. And still is quite cute to this day even though many would disagree.

The school looked like a castle with miniature turrets and towers. And it spanned for a great distance. There were many sections, including dorms for the lower years to stay in - most of them did. Who wouldn't stay? It was Hogwarts!

Remus still couldn't believe he'd won a scholarship to Hogwarts. All the greats had gone to Hogwarts. It was a very famous and supposedly brilliant school. Almost all the people who graduated from Hogwarts went to a top-ten University. If not in the top ten, then at least in the Russell Group.

He looked like an excited child in a large, well-stocked candy shop; eyeing each building with interest, staring with his mouth agape and the passing students and teachers hurrying to the school or parking their cars.

It really was absolutely enormous, Hogwarts was. The label for the reception was in Latin, reading _Muneris_. Remus knew enough Latin to know that, considering he was an enormous Latin and Greek fanatic.

He entered and was in awe at how beautiful it was inside; outside it was handsome, old and commanded respect; inside it was dainty and very pretty. There was an old woman manning the office and her name tag read Poppy Pomphrey. She was very pretty and about Remus's mother's age - her early thirties.

She saw Remus and his lost look and smiled at him. 'Sixth Former, first time Hogwarts student?'

He nodded and listened to her when she said this time, 'Here on a scholarship or an old time attender?'

'Scholarship,' he murmured, his voice breaking a little. He was nervous; the posh London tones she spoke in intimidated Remus a little. Though he didn't have a pure Devonshire accent like his father, who frequently dismissal of the 'g' letter in 'ing' words and the way he extended words that had 'o's in them, Remus on the other hand actually had a pretty average accent, however he still didn't pronounce words like 'glass' or 'fast' the way proper Londonders did - with the random 'r' somewhere in the middle of the word: like 'glarse' or 'farst'.

She broke into a wide smile and nodded. 'Then you must be Remus Lupin. Your parents have spoken to me. They requested that you be transferred from your current psychiatric ward sessions to me instead; I'm the school nurse, I'm just the receptionist for today so don't be thrown off.'

Remus blushed furiously but nodded and smiled at her. 'That's fine. Alright,' he said. Then he followed her where she dragged him. He looked behind him quickly, noticing a queue of several people already waiting to be signed in and waiting for their pictures to be taken.

She pulled him in front of a plain sky blue board and grabbed a camera that was perched off a hook, ready and waiting. She didn't even give him a head's up, snapping the camera and processing his picture onto the laptop connected to it. 'Alright,' she said, 'sometime during registration you'll be given your Student Identity Card. Alright?'

'Yes,' he said.

'Okay dear, let me give you your timetable and your personal information.' She handed him the sheets and bustled him along, but not before saying 'I'll see you in a short while sweetie.'

Remus blushed again when some of the people in the line waiting for Pomphrey looked at him and appraised him. Remus hiked his brand new (perhaps looking a bit too brand new) leather bag over his shoulder and turned. He looked down at the card in his hand: EN3, it read. So he had to register in English?

The bell was due, according to his timetable, to go off in ten minutes. Remus looked down at the map that was also stapled to the back of the timetable, and started to wander the halls of the school. He had a little bit of time to explore. And Remus liked exploring.

_xo_

Remus thought everything around him was stunning and too old and grand to be somewhere he got to attend. It was colourful but neutral and stripped-back all at the same time. The first bell went and he rushed to EN3 as fast as he could. But he was worried; what if he was late and got off to a bad start with his teacher?

He got there just in time though, when a group of three boys entered the room just before him. They caught Remus's eye almost instantly. They were the cheeky sort; with carefree arrogant smiles and devilish winks, and they had an air about them that suggested that they had spent much longer than a day in Hogwarts...

Remus snatched his eyes from the boys and sat in the nearest seat; beside a girl with long streaming red hair and a wicked smile. She looked at him and smiled before looking back at the front.

Quiet chatter sounded around the room and distinctly made Remus just a little more scared and a little more lonely. His heart was still beating very fast though, like he couldn't believe that he was lucky enough to attend Hogwarts. At long last, the oak door of the large grandeur classroom flew open and in entered their professor.

Professor...

'-McGonagall, for those of you who do not know me. I am the Head of English and I will be your form tutor for the next two years … sorry, what was that Mr Black?' her voice suddenly turned deadly and dangerous. She wasn't smiling anymore and definitely was not giving in to the charming mischievous smile of the very handsome boy.

He looked away from his friend with the glasses and up at the professor. 'Hello Professor. I've missed you,' he said in a perfect posh London accent. His voice radiated authority and wealth.

'No you haven't Black. And if you talk again whilst I'm talking, I'll give your parents a call.'

Black plastered his most apologetic expression onto his face and apologised profusely, before exchanging winks with his friends. McGonagall turned away from him tiredly and faced the class again. 'Now, for those who are new attenders, at one-thirty, there's a seminar about Hogwarts, the rules and what is seen as acceptable or not. It's down in the Great Hall.'

Whilst she talked, Remus looked down at his timetable. He had chosen to study for his A-Levels English Literature, History, Art and Classics. He was quite excited to study Classics; it seemed interesting and definitely fit into Remus's fascination with ancient languages and writers and artists. He looked up when he was being tapped on the shoulder by the red-haired girl. She was smiling kindly at Remus.

'Scholarship or stuck-up rich parents?' she asked him, a playful smile on her pretty face.

He grinned for the first time since he'd entered Hogwarts. 'Scholarship.'

A hand flew out to shake his. 'Lily Evans, I'm here on a scholarship too.'

'Remus Lupin,' he replied, shaking her hand and keeping his eyes glued to her bright vibrant green ones.

_xo_

Remus wasn't as sociable as he used to be. He knew now that he had to be careful with who he trusted, especially considering that he had been stabbed and almost killed by a nasty man.

It wasn't really much of a first day - they didn't learn anything. It was like a tester for the subjects that they had chosen to take, so they could switch if it ended up being the total opposite of what they had expected.

'So like an induction day? Well, that's a bloody waste of your mother's brilliant pancake cooking. Watch, she'll refuse to make them tomorrow for your real bloody first day.' He said gruffly.

Remus stared at the table he was sitting alone at, eating his fruit salad and enjoying every bite of it. He cracked his can of coke open whilst laughing at his father's antics. 'Je sais que,' he replied, knowing that though his father had limited French, he could comprehend the three words Remus said, it would still annoy him.

'And now you've gone and confused me with your chip-chop language again. Wouldn't it be easier for you to say "I know"? Why did you have to go and confuse me?'

'Because I love you and you need to learn the language your wife and son speak fluently?' Remus answered, throwing more grapes into his mouth and licking his lips. He spoke to his father for a few more minutes before his dad had to go and he put the phone down.

It was slightly intimidating, being around all these rich kids and not having a dime of his own really. But he had to adjust and get used to being around the rich kids. He was going to be with them for the next two years, and if he got into Oxford or Cambridge, at least another three after that.

Remus's eyes roamed the Great Hall, settling briefly on each group and reading them; their dynamics, their antics, the way they looked at each other. He could tell that the female groups were definitely based on looks and money rather than intellect and genuine interest in one another. The male groups were mostly testosterone fuelled and some lacked a distinctive connection; like they didn't like each other but knew better than to realm off into the land of loneliness.

The three boys from Remus's form however sat together in a close knitted circle. Remus could tell they were real friends and really cared about each other. Many of the girls seemed to be staring over at the boys too. If Remus was honest, only two of the three were quite handsome, one excruciatingly so. He was someone Remus would love to paint; aristocratic, well defined with beauty etched in his facial features and a good posture.

Their eyes met, a mesh of golden brown and silvery grey and Black seemed to shiver from the intensity of the stare. He looked away hurriedly.

They shared three classes; English Literature, History and Classics which really was peculiar. Remus shrugged and popped another grape into his mouth; maybe they could become acquaintances and Remus could bribe him into modelling.

Just for an hour or two...

Maybe...

Fifteen minutes later, when he was sitting on a table alone, surrounded by more Year Twelves and blocking out the sounds of teachers standing up at the front and babbling their own pre-written, rehearsed speech, he bit his lip and thought just for a second that maybe … maybe he might like it here in Hogwarts, here in London.

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**A/N: **I hope you like this first chapter! I plan on turning this into a long story, with at least 30+ chapters. Please follow, favourite and review. Thanks for reading xxx


	2. Boys of London

**A/N: **First, my disclaimer on the first chapter applies from now to all updates. I do not own Harry Potter in the slightest. I only own this sure-to-be twisted plot and the OCs. That's all. Second, I really do hope that anyone who is reading this story enjoys it.

**Warnings: **smutty scene at the end, *devil face*.

_This is for Megan xxxxx_

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_Chapter Two : Boys of London_

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London is very large, and a place of dreams to many. But for every parent living there with children, it's a frightful place too - it holds the power to corrupt, the strength to sour and ruin … it's dangerous in every sense of the word.

For Sirius Black however, it was the only place he had ever known and probably will ever know. London was his home. The line of houses around Grimmauld Place are not as spacious and grand as the manors _in_ Grimmauld Place. They are four bedroom homes with large gardens but are not particularly exciting, not like the enormous block of Grimmauld. There are eighteen houses only in the old block, each taking up the space of at least four standard three bedroom houses.

_Number Twelve_ in question is especially large and especially grandeur. It's further away from all the other houses, as if to say LOOK AT ME! LOOK HOW LARGE I AM! Number Twelve was the residence of four people, though it may as well be three since father was not really around much. There is a maid but she was not really counted as one of the residence, as snobby as it sounded.

The house has six bedrooms, though is obviously doesn't need six. Three or four, maybe. To add to the six rooms, there are ensuite bathrooms for both the sons living there, and the parents of course.

Despite the gargantuan size of the House of Black, the eldest son, and the most bitter and scathing by far, really hated life there and found it claustrophobic - an oxymoron in itself. Mum was called Walburga Black; she was a renounced retired model but still guest starred on the red carpet sometimes. Dad, known as Orion Black, had royal blood flowing through his aristocratic veins. He managed accounts and houses and other boring things.

Mr and Mrs Black were the semi-proud parents of their two sons; Sirius Orion and Regulus Arcturus.

The house the "happy" family lived in is conventionally handsome and old; with its well-furnished lounges and dining rooms, and the ancient beds and Victorian sofas of the bedrooms. Sirius Black, at that moment, was sitting on his bed with an ashtray in his hand and a still-smoking cigarette butt in the clear crystal tray.

He looked down at it and frowned, worrying his lip. He flicked his black hair out of his eyes and stared down at his nails. Life was difficult for Sirius - he felt like he was running from something, keeping a secret and holding it back. Like how he didn't want to do what his father did, but instead wanted a job that _meant_ something. He was going to ignore what his parents said and drop Law; what the hell was the point of taking a subject that he knew he would refuse to take in University? He didn't want to do the things they were pushing him into doing.

But Sirius was _scared_ to tell his father that he planned on dropping the subject he was quite literally forced into taking and instead take Art, what he'd wanted to take for so long.

James wasn't in all the same classes as him; History and English Literature, yes, but unlike Sirius he didn't have parents who pushed him into doing what they wanted him to do. James was taking Philosophy and P.E.

_Lucky bastard, _Sirius thought. He pulled out another cigarette from the deck he had and lit it, inhaling slowly and treasuring the smoke in his lungs. He finished it quickly and then heard screaming from downstairs; it was his mother, no doubt being hurt by his father.

Being _thrown about, __screamed at ... slapped._

Sirius buried himself under the covers of his luxurious bed and rocked himself slowly. His father would probably be making himself up two flights of grand stairs to Sirius or Regulus, whoever he decided to attack first. But when the door burst open, Sirius was surprised to see his brother making his way towards him.

Regulus's wide blue eyes, so alike his father's, were glassy. 'Can I stay with you?' he asked.

Stuttering for a moment, the elder brother nodded hurriedly. It was a custom that they hadn't indulged in for at least a year now. And Sirius terribly missed it, missed the intimate loving relationship he had once wholly shared with his fifteen year old brother.

'O-of course,' said Sirius. He moved a little in his bed and held the covers up for his brother to snuggle in. Regulus did just that.

They heard the screaming go on and covered their ears partially, wincing and closing their eyes. Sirius wrapped an arm around his little brother and started humming in his ear. 'It's alright,' he repeated over and over.

Much to their utter happiness, and relief, Orion didn't visit them that night, like he so usually did. Instead, he went straight out and took his wife with him, no doubt to the GP or their private doctor friend. Sirius and his brother went down to the lounge and saw broken glasses and the maid, Miss Kreacher, tidying it up.

'Thanks Miss,' said Sirius from the doorway to the enormous lounge, looking at Kreacher whilst he said this.

She smiled at him, as she had done in the past and she'll continue to do in the future. Her smile was one of love; she knew the boys in better ways than their parents. She had raised them from when they were little itty bitty boys who couldn't hold their own heads up without a stable hand beneath it.

'It's alright Sirius,' she replied quietly, tucking white hair behind her ear. She was an elderly woman, with children and grandchildren now. She and her husband had split up years ago, but she was still filled with vibrancy and happiness despite so much wrong happening in her life.

'What was it over now?' he whispered, looking at her.

'I don't know dear,' she answered and then she continued cleaning. 'What would you like for dinner?'

'It's alright, I've got some money. I was thinking maybe I could take Reg out to a restaurant and the cinema. You know, cheer him up and stuff.'

'I'll tell your parents when they come then dear.'

Sirius knocked on his brother's bedroom door five minutes later. 'Get changed, I'm taking you out.' He called before storming off to change himself.

_xo _

The film was good but it didn't take their minds off things. It was just filth and sexist jokes and some trash called _How I F***ed Your Mother__._

Regulus was a lot like his brother. He was tall and seemed much older than his fifteen years of age, just like Sirius does not seem at all like he was almost seventeen. Almost nineteen maybe.

They ate in Nando's, because Sirius only had forty pounds and simply couldn't be expected to pay for their cinema tickets, munch to have in the cinema and lavish meals afterwards. They're growing boys and were very hungry, and besides, Nando's is good. Not up to their parents standards, but for them, it's as good as anything else.

The talk between the brothers was restricted. They couldn't think about anything other than what their father had committed. 'How's school?' Sirius asked his brother when they opted out on calling their chauffeur and instead loped around for a long time, walking and enjoying the warmth of the September's breezy Autumn.

'It's good,' replied the younger brother. 'Well, it sucks a bit. But it's good. I broke up with Aisha again, and I know I shouldn't have on the first day but I just couldn't take it. People are laughing at me, saying I'm totally whipped and I'm not whipped Sirius, I'm really not.'

'Do you like her?' asked Sirius, raising an eyebrow.

Regulus nodded quickly. 'Yes, I do. But I don't like being called whipped every other day too.'

They exchanged a smile, discreet and secretive. He looked up at his brother and then his face crumpled. 'We have to go back now,' he said, cocking his head at the enormous clock at the front of the shopping centre they were outside of. 'Father'll be home soon and he'll be furious if he gets there before us.'

'Don't worry,' said Sirius, 'call Jerome. He'll pick us up.' The chauffeur was quick, it took him less than fifteen minutes to meet them in a gorgeous jet black Rolls Royce.

'Is father home?' Sirius's voice was urgent and abrupt, he moved back to let his brother preceed him and met Jerome's gaze. 'Is he?'

'No, not yet. But he'll be home soon, so we need to be quick.'

When they arrived home, both boys hurried to Sirius's slightly larger bedroom, watched TV on the flatscreen and fell asleep on Sirius's enormous bed, only to be waken up a few hours later for school.

_xo _

Sirius couldn't remember when he first met James, though he was often told by his second set of parents, Mr and Mrs Potter, that he'd met James when James was born. They were closer than best friends, closer than brothers in the sense that they didn't mind sharing toothbrushes if one was finding himself without a toothbrush; they didn't mind sharing beds or borrowing clothes. It may even seem to a bystander that they were in a homosexual relationship or something. But they most certainly were not - James is straighter than a ruler and Sirius, if possible, is straighter than him.

'Come over mine,' Sirius said over the phone when he was cramming breakfast into his mouth. James lived about a five minute walk away, in the block opposite Grimmauld Place, called Godric's Hollow. Whoever came up with the random names for the rich posh blocks, we'll never know...

He laughed when he heard James shout angrily at the cat called Benjamin despite her very _female_ sexual reproductive organs. 'What?' asked Sirius.

'Benjamin tried to scratch me again, bloody cat. Erm … alright, let me tell Stan then. See you in a few.' The phone went dead and Sirius placed his back into his pocket.

'Regulus!' he shouted, 'Reg!'

'What?' a distant voice bellowed back.

'Wanna ride with me and James?'

'It's fine! I'm meeting Aisha! I have to try and get her to go out with me again.'

Sirius laughed and continued throwing everything he would need at Hogwarts into his satchel; pens, a lighter, another lighter, his fags, his wallet, his massive awesome headphones and his timetable and planner. His phone vibrated, reminding the black haired boy that James was waiting outside; he walked towards Kelly, the maid and cocked his head at the bundle of notes sitting on the breakfast table.

She smiled at him and handed him twenty quid. 'Thanks,' he said.

James was perched eagerly in a silver Jaguar, his head poking out of the window. 'Hurry up then,' he said. 'I have it on good authority that the redhead is usually early to school, or so Peter tells me.'

'I don't know why you trust him,' said Sirius, slipping into the car and shaking his head. 'He looks like the type to make shit up. Besides, he's from-'

'No, none of that prejudiced shit Sirius. It doesn't matter where he's from.' James said forcefully, looking at his friend squarely in the eye.

'-Ireland,' muttered the other under his breath. He personally didn't have a problem with non-Londoners of course, but it was funny to see how worked up James got every time he said such a comment. James was very different to most rich boys; he didn't think money mattered that much, he disagreed with the capitalist system and he cared a lot for people.

Unlike Sirius, who, though he did care a lot about people, didn't mind if he stayed richer than most for the rest of his life. Sirius only cared about three things: _money, sex and painting._ Not necessarily in that order.

They rolled up to the school, a good distance away for Sirius to be able to walk leisurely and smoke simultaneously. He stared resolutely ahead of him and felt a shiver convulse through his body. He was so _scared..._

'What's wrong?' James asked, looking at Sirius carefully and trying to analyse his usually transparent friend. It seemed like Sirius was finally learning to not be so much of an open book.

'I'm going to take Art and drop Law. I mean you said to me a while ago didn't you? You said to me that I shouldn't take subjects I know are going to be a waste of time. Well, I'm going to take Art and I'm going to enjoy every bit of it, and I'm not going to take Law and I won't feel guilty or regret it in the slightest.' Sirius raised his head and straightened his shoulders. Why was he slumping?

His father wasn't here. His father couldn't touch him. He was safe, wasn't he?

'Your dad's going to be furious,' said James. 'But I'm proud of you.' He slapped Sirius on the back in a comforting manner. 'Now, forgive me if I'm wrong, but we have double English Literature with McGonagall first don't we?'

Sirius grinned. 'We do. _And_ we register in there too.'

'Well then, hurry up with your fag and let's go terrorise her ... after you drop Law of course.'

_xo _

It was an unusual registration that lasted for twenty agonising minutes. Agonising because Sirius had to pretend to like people he would never usually talk too. McGonagall launched some activity where they (the class of fifteen students) would walk around and introduce themselves to people they already didn't know; namely the old Hogwartians talking to the new ones.

It was a bit like speed dating, only, there was no sex at the end nor any real entertainment … apart from the conversation that had already been taking place for ten minutes on the other end of the room between James and the redhead, something-Evans.

James was trying to engage in a cheerful conversation with her and she was rebuffing his attempts at conversation by answering in monosyllables and aggressive gestures.

'...Art, English Literature, History and Classics...' A voice sounded around him, monotonous and cold.

Sirius's ears perked up. Those were all the subjects he was now officially taking. He looked at the face that went with the voice and couldn't help but raise an eyebrow questioningly. The boy had a delicate sort of beauty about him; not as obvious or blunt as Sirius's, and a whole much more pure and sweet.

He was also very intriguing in a strictly professional sort of way; the way he held the pen in his hand and sketched so quickly and surely, yet too perfectly, without so much as looking at the page he was sketching on. Sirius was the only one in the position to see exactly what the strange, blondish brown haired boy was sketching - the face of the girl opposite him, talking to him.

'Well,' the girl said like she was too important and mature for the boy she was speaking to, 'I'm taking Lit and Lang, Media, Photography and History. So I guess I'll be seeing you around a lot. My name's Ritanelle Skeeter, but you can just call me Rita.' She held out her hand, once she was done brushing his bright blonde hair out of her face.

She had a pug sort of quality to her face; like it was squished and had been flattened repeatedly. The boy took her hand and shook it briefly before dropping it quickly. 'Remus,' he said.

Sirius puzzled over his accent for a while. He was definitely from the South-West of England, but where? Somerset? Dorset? _Bath? _

'You're not much of a talker are you?' she said, laughing when she was greeted with silence. 'Well, that's alright because I'm always the talker out of me and whoever I'm with. I can speak for hours on end with no response or reply, as long as there's someone to listen. My parents say I could be a really good reporter, I'd love to be one but-'

'Alright, start talking to someone different now, students,' the stern voice of McGonagall said.

Sirius looked at the girl sitting opposite him and shrugged. She was too intrigued in her phone to really pay much attention to Sirius, after initially gaping at him at the beginning of course. But he hadn't offered his name or even asked for _her name._

'Well, it was nice meeting you Remus.' Skeeter said, smiling widely at him and standing up. She reached out her hand for another handshake but was met with a stony glare. She mock-shivered and backed away from Remus. 'Jeez,' she murmured, 'talk about hostility.'

_Should I?_ Sirius thought desperately. He was so fucking _bored._ And Remus was taking _the same subjects as him! _

Sirius looked at the boy called Remus and quickly decided that he would indeed replace where that Skeeter girl herself had been sitting.

When he sat down in the hard chair on the opposite side of the desk, less than two feet from the Remus boy, their eyes met, and Sirius felt like he was under water … with silence surrounding him … silence that somehow managed to _echo_...

His striking silver eyes collided with Remus's pale gold ones and they stared at each other, their heartbeats drumming in their ears. In that split moment, a thought seemed to pass from one brain to the other, a mildly disturbing (and in Sirius's case, downright surprising) thought.

A thought that neither wanted to think about at that moment.

'Sirius,' the dark haired one said quietly. He extended his hand and almost sighed when another met his, held it and firmly shook it.

'Remus.' The boy said.

Sirius cleared his throat and took a deep breath before continuing. 'I heard you earlier, talking to that girl. You take all the same subjects as me.'

Remus showed the first real human emotion in their short yet at the same time, quite long conversation. He raised an eyebrow and quirked his mouth in an almost-smile. 'You must have similar tastes in education to me then.'

His golden eyes were glued to Sirius's hair; the halo of black-blue tresses around his face, the glistening texture of it, the bright rich quality of it … he'd do anything to try and paint something as difficult as the boy sitting before him.

'Yeah, maybe.' Sirius said quietly, looking down at his lap. When his gaze flickered back up again, he caught a strange, almost inhuman expression plastered on the other teenager's face. McGonagall started talking again, but they weren't even really listening to her. They were just trying to find anywhere but each other to look at.

The bell rippled through the air, jerking Sirius out of his reverie. And now it was time for a double lesson on English Lit. Sirius stood up quickly and without so much as a goodbye, he walked over to where James was still sitting opposite Lily, grabbed his best friend's arm and hauled him over to the back of the room where there were more desks and chairs.

Most of the lesson, whilst McGonagall introduced them to A-Level English Literature, and spoke to them about what they would be doing later that day, Sirius spent sending bewildered glances to the boy not sitting very far from him.

There was something about Remus … something different and entirely worrying.

_xo_

Regulus had decided to not stay at Hogwarts' accommodation, like both brothers had always done before, to get away from Orion.

Because Sixth Formers were not required to stay at Hogwarts, none of them wanted to … save Sirius of course. But he couldn't. Still, if Regulus stayed with him at Grimmauld, then he wouldn't mind living at home once again. He'd had to live at home without Regulus when he finished his GCSE exams three weeks before Hogwarts was due to end for all other year groups, and his brother wasn't able to return home for three whole weeks.

Right now though, Sirius lamented the usually empty home he had had at that time. His … female friend … was currently giving him what was fast becoming the most spectacular blow job of his life when there was knocking on his bedroom door. It had to be Regulus because his parents never knocked and Miss Kreacher never came in when he was occupying the room.

Besides, it was only Sirius and Regulus who inhabited the second floor of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. Dorcas Meadows, Sirius's lady-friend, ignored the little brother banging on the door though. She pretended it wasn't happening and continued to perform fellatio rather enthusiastically on Sirius, swallowing him as much as she could without gagging or coughing. She was getting _really_ good at it.

Sirius let loose another low, guttural moan that he was sure his brother heard. Nonetheless, Regulus chose to ignore the noises coming from the room and just started banging harder.

_Why did you ask him to stay at home for you? If he was at Hogwarts, you could be having a good time and he'd be far enough away to NOT DISTURB YOU!_

Sirius wound his hands into Dorcas's gorgeous long dark brown locks and pulled her face up so she was looking at him. He pecked her quickly on the lips and stood up, looking for some underwear to hastily put on. When he was decent enough, and Dorcas was hidden from the potential view of Regulus, he threw open the door to his bedroom.

'It's like you want me looking at your stiffy, who is it now? Angela? No, wait, let me guess … Dorcas, from the moaning you were doing-'

Sirius hit his brother hard and fixed an angry glare onto him. 'What do you want? Because obviously my erection isn't spelling it out for you, but I'm still hard and I'm still waiting to get finished off. So, what do you want?'

'I was going to ask if you could provide an alibi for me with mother. I told her I'm going to some revision session at Hogwarts, so tell her you saw me in the library or something before you came home?' Regulus was dressed nicely, and was wearing his suede shoes. He looked very much like his brother, but a smaller, thinner version. He had a slighter build and different colour eyes. Despite this, he shared the aristocratic, refined features that Sirius shared with his beloved mother.

'You couldn't have called me or something?' said Sirius, shaking his head and glaring at his brother.

'Well, mum's going to be back in about half an hour, and I couldn't risk it. Besides, now you'll definitely remember to tell her.' The younger brother ducked the punch coming his way, laughed and moved back some more. 'Have fun, but not too much fun. See you later.'

Sirius slammed the door shut, shot it an angry look, as if it was to blame, and turned back to Dorcas. His cock hardened almost immediately. She was lying on the bed most provocatively, and most tempting with her nudity and her unabashed grace and beauty. He approached her and sat beside her, stroking her bare bum and her soft, silky back where a tattoo stood out on her vivid, still-sixteen-year-old hipbone.

'Sorry,' he murmured, nuzzling her shoulder and pressing hasty kisses to her collarbone. 'He can be really annoying.'

She laughed radiantly. 'Really? I hadn't noticed.'

'Let me make it up to you,' said Sirius, raising an eyebrow and leaning forward to kiss her deeply when she didn't respond. He flipped them over so he was on top and then let his fingers wander, finding what he was looking for. She panted beneath him and plunged herself into a deep, moving kiss. One that left goosebumps all over her skin. And when she went down on him again a few minutes afterwards, and Regulus was not there to ruin her spectacular blow job, he sat back, relaxed and enjoyed the pleasures Dorcas and her small little mouth brought to him.

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**A/N: **I hope you liked this chapter! Please do favourite, follow and review! If you like epic tales, I promise this'll be one! Enjoy the rest of your day xxx


	3. All-Encompassing Emotions

**A/N: **Thanks for all the lovely reviews. This chapter is of course, for Megan again.

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_Chapter Three : All-Encompassing Emotions_

* * *

Love is one of those tender, all-encompassing emotions, and when it's felt, it has the power to completely make someone, or it can break them. It's the powerful emotion that makes the world go 'round; it has done so since the beginning of time, before Adam and Eve, before single-cell organisms developed into multi-cell organisms, before God created the world in seven days and way before the hydrogen atoms collided to create stars - the beauty of stars.

But when something good comes about, there's always something, completely the antithesis of course, there to accompany it. This time, it is hate that follows love. Follows it like a lost lover itself, even though it's supposed to totally hate love.

Remus was always surrounded with love, but that was what happened when you came from a mediocre family and were the only child. It was a lonely life most of the time, growing up. When he had no one to play with and his parents were sometimes too busy to do much then cuddle and kiss him, he turned to painting. It was what they bought him - instead of toy cars and tiny bikes, they (and extended family sometimes) bought him crayons, colouring pencils, and when he was in middle school, watercolours and acrylics.

And of course he'd become amazing, virtuosic at it when he grew up and continued painting. Now, he couldn't even think about not sketching or drawing or painting. He was not like all the other Art students at Hogwarts who took it up because it was a hobby to them or they couldn't get into anything else really.

It didn't take much skill to paint well but it took a fuck load of power and emotion to turn a picture or painting into something real. Remus waltzed into his first Art class, strangely nervous and quite worried. He looked at their teacher, a young woman with more life in her than the large high ceiling room she taught in. That being said, evidently she had tried to make it as lively as she was; there were skylights all over and windows wide open. In the corner, something was smoking. With a grin, Remus realised it was an incense stick.

The class was relatively small, but Art classes always were and AS and A2 classes usually were too. There were ten other people in the class. They sat down according to friendship groups or people they knew on the square tables big enough for maybe three.

Remus immediately took the table closest to the window with a large skylight shining down on it too. Perfect lighting, he thought with a grin. Miss Whatever hadn't even introduced herself whilst she did the register, pausing as she went over a name and grinning widely to herself before shaking her head and continuing down the list. When she finished, she looked back to the top of the register and murmured to herself:

'And of course, we're missing-'

The door opened and an out of breath Sirius Black hurried in, his hair in disarray with James Potter behind him. 'Sorry he's late Miss. It's totally my fault and definitely not his.'

'Just leave Potter, you'll be late to your lesson.' The Professor laughed, cocking her head to the door and waving back when Potter saluted her. He clapped his friend on the back, murmured something to him and left without another word.

'Alright class, most of you do not know me,' the Professor said whilst Sirius placed his stuff opposite Remus, smiled sheepishly at him and sat down. It was the only mostly-free table, Remus reasoned with himself though he was a bit annoyed. 'My name is Caroline Iris. Miss Iris, Caroline or Miss Caroline are fine. I expect everyone here to be interested in Art, whatever form you choose, and I also expect you all to try hard in my lesson. I am an honest teacher and if I think you can do better then fuck it, you'll do better.'

Everyone was immediately interested in what she said and those who weren't really listening looked up. Remus appraised her. She was young, couldn't be older than twenty eight or so and she was very pretty too: long golden blonde hair, large eyes and a slender willowy figure.

'Now, I only teach AS and A2 but I did teach GCSE Year Eleven last year and I'm glad to see a few familiar faces. I'll hand out the specs to Art this year and you will all flick through them and see what A-Level Art entails. If you don't like it, then I'll ask you to politely stay for the rest of the double lesson and go to the Options Adviser at the end of the lesson.' She clapped her hands and smiled at them before handing a wad of sheets to the person closest to her and instructing her to hand out a sheet to each person.

Miss Iris came towards their table first and threw an arm around Sirius's shoulders like they were old friends, beaming at him. 'You took it!'

'No, I exchanged it. I ended up taking Law but then I thought fuck it, I'll take Art instead.' He had an aristocratic voice, posh and husky and one he would retain for the rest of his life, as hard as he'll try and has tried to squash it out.

'You sound like you've just settled for Art. This isn't like the boy who came to me last year,' she lowered her voice but Remus could still hear when he concentrated hard, 'crying because he was being forced to take Law.'

The smug smile slipped off Sirius's face and he frowned. 'Well...'

'I'm glad you're here. You have too much talent to throw away because of your father.' Caroline said solemnly. 'Now, you better carry on taking Art until University and I want to see every bit of your talent or I'll dish you out detentions faster than you can say sorry.' She turned her fierce expression to Remus and smiled at him.

'Hello, what's your name?' she asked politely.

'Remus.' He whispered before quickly looking down at the spec sitting before him.

'Well, it's nice to meet you, great Remus. You don't happen to have a brother called Romulus, do you?' she said, winking at him.

He shook his head. 'Not anymore, no.' He joked. She grinned at him and Remus noticed for the first time that she had a beautiful smile.

'Alright, well, look over the specs and see if there's a particular topic or movement you want to choose to study and work on. We're all, as it is compulsory, going to be working on portraits and studies of real figures and images given to us.' She nodded at them, gave them the thumbs up and turned to the next table, which too had two inhabitants.

Remus looked around the room; all the students were flicking through the spec, deciding and circling which options they were going to choose. Well, Remus knew what he was going to do. He'd known for years what his first year of Sixth Form and his second year would consist of: for his first year, he was going to choose Portrait (but that was compulsory) and Still Life for the second year. The topics he had decided on were Post-Impressionism, Expressionism and Realism for the movements. He circled them without a second thought then threw his spec down to the table and began studying his fingernails; what he retreated to doing when he felt awkward or confused.

If he could, he would move to an island - his own personal world - and never have to worry about other people; he would just live the life he'd always wanted to live.

He started sketching his dream home on the back of the spec, quick calculated strokes of the black biro pen, steady and sure swipes with ink left in its trail, dotted beads clustered in some areas of the page and not a single one in others. The end result was of course, a gorgeous night's sky and a beach with rippling water staring back at the starry starry night.

Caroline started talking, clapping her hands together to get everyone's attention. 'You should all have chosen two topics to carry out over the next two years and three movements to experiment with in these topics. Got it? Alright, I want all of us to start with the Portrait project. We'll spend half the year doing that whilst using the three movements you have chosen and then we'll have a small exam at the end in June where you have to compose a painting and a sketchbook.'

Most people stared at her like she was deluded, but Remus just grinned. It sounded perfect. Portrait for the first year was the best way to do it too. Not only did he prefer painting people but he also adored experimenting and showing off his ability.

Caroline was walking around, waving her incense stick in the faces of students and laughing with them. 'Okay Year Twelve, listen up. For the remaining hour and a bit, I want you to sketch me a person standing in this room. Sketch it with any movement you want but it must be in pencil. Good luck.' She collected the marked student specs from where they had been rounded up and placed at the front of the class, then she sat them on her desk, plugged in some earphones, and started organising them.

'She's just going to leave us to our own devices?' a female voice said.

'Yeah,' another boy said, with a name like Something-Fenwick. 'That's what she usually does, right Black?'

Sirius Black, the handsome boy who many had decided to sketch, nodded and chuckled. 'I don't see why you're asking me Benjy.'

'Oh, I'm just remembering that time Miss was so consumed in the music she was listening to that she didn't hear you wanking in the class.'

'I wasn't _wanking_,' the aristocratic boy said loftily, like it was an insult of the biggest kind: 'Someone else was doing it for me.'

'You're such a posh cocky bastard.' Fenwick said, shaking his head and looking down.

Remus had zoned out whilst eavesdropping in on their conversation and instead was looking at the sketchbook that had been passed out to him. He felt the paper inside, watched it for a moment, wondering what pencil would be best.

_Wondering who the fuck to sketch._

That pretty girl near the front would have been amazing to sketch but the lighting was all wrong, she, unluckily, did not have a skylight directly over her head. Remus looked at Miss Iris at the front and pondered whether to draw her, but she was too far away in the enormous art room. He wouldn't be able to draw the details of her mature, gorgeous face.

Besides, great artists always said it was good to paint someone you were physically attracted too and by God was Remus attracted to some of the more … male specimens in the room. He had always liked boys more than girls. His first make-out sessions had been with a goddamn shemale in every sense of the word.

And regardless of whether the boy had been a girl, Remus had thought that _she_ was in actual fact a _he_. So it was really the same thing.

He stood up, and not minding about whether or not it was inappropriate, he leaned over to Sirius Black and moved the boys frustratingly soft hair away from his fucking gorgeous eyes and sat back down, ignoring the slight blush colouring his cheeks. Slowly, Remus began to draw out the proportions and then he started to.

_xo_

Sirius Black was not like many of the people in his class. He didn't draw with proportions or measurements; he really only preferred to draw freehand, relying totally on his keen eye and his obvious artistic ability. But watching Remus Lupin, the boy opposite him, sketch with such passion and vigour, well it evoked something within Sirius.

He stuck to sketching the girl nearby, her name was something like Marley or whatever. She was pretty enough and quite easy to draw; the shadows from the wrong lighting flickered across her face just the way Sirius liked. He kept looking up at her: she was totally oblivious to the way he sketched her and instead was transfixed on sketching the teacher at the front. It was hard because she kept looking up but Sirius knew that everyone was probably feeling the same emotions of frustration and annoyance.

'Alright, the lesson is ending in five minutes so let's start to pack up. I can see loads of really good sketches around, well done class.' She clapped her hands and signalled for everyone to stop now.

Sirius looked over and caught a peek at the other boy's sketch. It was good - more than good - it was absolutely fantastic. And it was a fucking piss-take for Sirius to see that it was unfinished. His eyes were empty and hollow, though the lashes and eyebrows had been done with astonishing accuracy. His lips were incomplete too, as was the shine and glow of his hair and the fringe he despised but at the same time adored.

'Now, for homework I want you to complete these pictures or, if you want, start a completely different one. But I must have a finished picture by Thursday. We have two lessons on Thursday so that gives you plenty of time.' She smiled, went about collecting the pencils she had given out.

'That's good,' Sirius said to the boy sitting opposite him. 'Best I've seen so far.'

'You say it like everyone's drawn you.' Remus replied in that cool, chilling voice of his.

Sirius grinned at him. 'Everyone has, save three people. Must be the aristocratic cheekbones and the silvery eyes my retired-model of a mother gave me.'

'Lucky you,' Remus answered before following the now departing class members. He didn't want to seem uncaring or cold but he didn't want to have to fake laugh and smile when he really didn't feel like it. So he felt attraction to the boy he was drawing; it didn't mean that he actually wanted to be friends with him or whatever. Besides, the boy screamed straight and Remus did not want to be the one to wake him up to the pleasures of boy-on-boy love.

It was a nice, chilly Autumn day - the sun was shining bright and the leaves from the trees were turning from lime green to reddish gold. The courtyard was a popular place for the Sixth Formers, it appeared. They were mostly sitting on the grass, chatting to their new friends and laughing through the skin of their teeth.

He sat down, by himself of course, at one of the abandoned wooden picnic benches. Remus moved his hair out of his face and pulled out his Art sketchbook. And he was in luck, Sirius Black with James Potter of course strolled past Remus and sat on the grass of course wide courtyard. It was like people moved to make them space because they were so damn _important._

The Autumn sun was beaming down on the two best friends as they chatted and laughed together, pulling out their cans of coke and sandwiches from the canteen. Remus could hear snippets of their conversation (most people had stopped talking now to listen to the pair of boys). But he didn't really care about their conversation; Remus wanted to get the best mark or grade possible for his sketch of Sirius.

He was experimenting with the idea of light and dark; however, in this moment, the Autumn sun overhead was throwing light on the boy, inevitably creating a few shadows and darker areas. It was a very realistic sketch, almost like a photograph.

The day flitted by and Remus stayed alone, secluded, away from every and anyone. That redhead Evans was very smart, she knew to keep at a distance from Remus, after he ignored her whilst reading his favourite book during lunchtime. But that didn't stop her from smiling at him at the end of the day when all the Sixth Formers rushed to the shops before the Lower Years.

Remus watched everyone: watched how people his age were supposed to integrate and mingle. It looked tedious, boring and heavily exhausting. They had a fake façade about them, smiling at people they didn't and probably would never want to know. But Remus knew that all he had to do was get a few energy drinks from the shop and complete the three pieces of homework he had been set.

_Homework..._

Such a childish word. But an accurate word nonetheless. He entered the shabby looking corner shop a few metres from the entrance of Tesco, which was positively overflowing with students. Inside was only one student - a Year Eleven by the looks of it - who was buying a deck of Mayfair.

_Oh you've got to be kidding me,_ Remus wanted to shout. But during the thirty seconds that it took for the whole exchange to take place, Remus realised that he couldn't really blame the shady looking shopkeeper. Tesco was on the shop's bloody doorstep; it was unfair competition and unfortunately left the Convenience Shop to carry out illegal activities such as selling cigarettes to under age students.

'Thanks Dung,' the boy said in a husky voice before leaving the shop quickly.

Remus stared at the shelves filled with tobacco and rolling papers and worried his lip for a minute. Why not try? Everyone said that cigarettes helped with stress and god knows how much stress Remus had been going through.

'Can I have Marlboro please, ten deck and a lighter,' said Remus, pointing vaguely at the shelf and pulling out a five pound note. He took a moment to observe the man: he had several teeth missing, and the ones that were there were rotting and a bright yellow. His hair was almost non-existent too, there were a few greasy strands and clumps here and there. His skin was a pasty pale grey, and very unattractive.

'Alrigh', 'ere ya go,' the man said, handing both articles as discreetly to Remus as he could, looking around several times before taking the money off the counter.

'Thanks.' Remus replied as he left, taking the deck out of his pocket and pulling out a cigarette. It wasn't particularly attractive, or amazing even. But it served its goal, didn't it? He sparked the lighter, lit the end of the fag and inhaled deeply as he walked to the side of the shop and stood. He inhaled again and flinched a little. It didn't taste nice but there was something about it that had Remus putting it back in his mouth, inhaling and exhaling.

Minutes went by before the fag was finished. Remus looked down at it and a vision flickered through his mind: one of him painting, in vivid detail, a man smoking, his shoulders ever so gently lifting from the slump they had been in.

Remus took out his phone and text his mum:

**Me: School's finished, come pick me up xx**

He sat on the curb and almost instantly, his phone went off.

**Mama: Alrite bebe xxxx**

She was quick, and Remus had the suspicion that she had been waiting around for him for a while. As soon as she got out of the car, she grabbed him and pulled him into a tight hug, kissing his cheek.

'How was it? How were your lessons, the teachers? How was everything?' she asked in rapid French, before twitching her nose and then frowning momentarily. Seizing an opportunity to distract her, he threw the car door open and went inside.

'C'était bien mama,' he consoled her. _It was good_, he wasn't lying. Maybe exaggerating but it wasn't awful. The teachers were good and Remus was pleased with what History and Art seemed to be about. The spare fifth period that he had on his timetable also was a good time for him to just lounge about outside and listen to music.

It was lonely but he wasn't expecting it to ever be anything but lonely. He didn't want friends. Or rather, he didn't think he could cope with ever having friends. He was too messed up, he had a long history and a long list of things just waiting to fuck up in his life. He didn't want to bring other people into the mess of a life he had; he was already dragging his parents down, he didn't want to drag any potential friends down too.

'Good,' Charlotte whispered, kissing his cheek before closing his car door and getting into the other side. There wasn't much talk during the drive; Remus nodded and agreed with everything his mother said. She could tell something was up with him though and appreciated that maybe right now, her baby wasn't in the mood to talk.

Every time she looked at him, with that adorable pout of his and the worried frown and gesture of running his hands through his tousled hair, Charlotte could not help but feel something deep inside her stirring: maybe it was the strong bond between the two, maybe it was the motherhood that had been engraved in her from the moment she found out she was pregnant - but regardless, Charlotte did not like seeing her son in pain. And ever since the …

_Accident_ in Devon, her son had been in a constant state of pain. He'd cut everyone out of his life, even tried to cut his parents out. He'd even resorted to self-harming for a short period of time.

Charlotte flinched and shook her head. She wouldn't think of that time her son had cut himself so badly-

_No, no, she wouldn't even think of it._ It was behind them. It was trapped in Devon now and would never bother them again. 'I'm thinking of lamb chops for dinner,' she murmured to him, laughing when he looked up eagerly at her. 'Lamb chops it is then.'

'Be careful though, dad can't really handle all the lustrous meat and grease and oil. We'll probably have to fix him up a salad or something.'

The Lupins flinched and smiled and joked until the car pulled up into the ordinary, plain driveway to the Lupin residence. 'You need to hurry up though mama, I need to go gym after.' He told her.

She nodded, watching him through the mirror just over her head. Then, the doors opened and they stepped out, entering the house together. Waiting most impatiently was of course, John.

John was a good man. He was a supportive, kind man who would literally do anything for his family. He was quite different considering he had been the brashest of guys before. But he was still a fun, creative and extraordinary dad. He'd kill a million people before watching his son get hurt. John was a good judge of character - come on, he'd married Charlotte hadn't he? The epitome of kindness and love and care? 'How was it?' he asked, tussling his son and musing his hair.

Remus frowned and ran a hand through it. 'Don't test me dad. It was good.'

''Course it was, I said it'd be fine didn't I?'

'Yes.' The slightly exasperated but still amused teenager answered. 'Look, can you tell mama to hurry up with cooking dinner. I need to go to the gym, don't I?'

'All your assignments done?'

'None of them are due tomorrow, besides, I'll do them when I come back from gym. Now please dad, just persuade her. Or I'll start talking French and I know how you hate when I-'

'Charlotte!' cried John, all but sprinting out of the living room and into the kitchen. Remus laughed and threw himself onto the sofa, his satchel still strapped around his body loosely. He pulled it open and took out the thick, hard-back sketchbook inside. There were dozens of pages, thick enough for paint but smooth enough for the lightest of pencils. _Perfect._

He turned to the first page, fingers lingering on the soft white pages, before a face looked up at him. The grey of the pencil captured the beautiful silver twinkling eyes, drawn so perfectly, on the page. Though it was still incomplete, the eyes and lips were finished now. And if Remus remembered how the hair felt beneath his fingers, the silkiness of it, he was sure he'd be able to finish the rest of the hair and head tonight when he returned home exhausted from the gym yet more energetic than ever.

Remus placed the sketchbook on the floor and grabbed the remote, switching the TV to the music channels and sitting back to enjoy the sound of guitars and basses strumming around him.

_xo_

The next few days passed the same as the first day. Sirius observed everyone: he watched as people he'd known for years changed and morphed into different people, he watched the new students of Hogwarts try to fit in, automatically fit in, and in the case of Remus J. Lupin, totally ignore the rest of the school population.

He seemed to have a soft spot for that bleedin' redhead though, the one that kept turning James fucking Potter down. She obviously didn't understand how much wealth _Potter & Black Industries_ had if she was willing to ignore James just because he had been a little rude to one of her friends, Severe Snake or whatever - Sirius honestly didn't care.

He found himself sitting on the grass, dominating the best, brightest and comfiest area that all the other students seemed to understand belonged to him and James. He couldn't help but watch as one of the Year Thirteens walked past him, his light blue jeans tight and his top ridding up just a little bit.

Sirius's eyes dropped down to admire his arse for a full few seconds before he remembered where the fuck he was and cringed, looking away almost immediately.

_How could you be so fucking stupid?_ In public? In front of people? _You're so stupid-_

He knew what he needed to do. Give Dorcas a call and have her stay the night. She felt so good and she was so good - at anything he asked of her and anything she felt like doing really.

James elbowed him as he sat beside Sirius, pulling out some sandwiches and throwing Sirius the slightly more squashed one. 'I think I'm going to win her over.'

Sirius groaned. 'The redhead bint?'

'Oi! She's not a bint. I'm so sorry I don't go after sour-faced, scummy little rich girls that are probably related to me distantly.' The bespectacled one retorted before he took a large bite of the sandwich he held.

Sirius grinned at him as he too tucked into his sandwich: hmm, chicken tikka with olives, lettuce and jalapeños. 'They're the best though. There's something exhilarating and enigmatic to knowing that you're fucking a potential cousin-'

James's laughter broke Sirius mid-speech; his head was thrown back so far Sirius was sure he'd choke on his food if he didn't swallow it already. 'That's fucking disgusting,' James said once he'd swallowed.

'I don't really care though,' Sirius winked, 'as long as I get to bust at the end of it, I mean who really cares whether they're fucking their cousin or not?'

'Most normal people, that's who...' they were silent for a moment as they ate before James continued, 'I wonder where Peter is. He said he'd be ten minutes.'

Sirius shrugged. 'He's probably getting beaten up or something by one of the elder years. Malfoy's back this year and he's always particularly hated Peter.'

They continued making idle chat, cracking jokes along the way. It was interesting to see two boys who had known each other their whole lives continue to talk about so much: it was a wonder that they didn't ever run out of things to talk about.

'You staying at mine tonight?' the long haired one asked, draining the last few drops of his water and tossing the bottle on the ground.

James nodded. 'I'm supposed to stay for a few days but I need to go to mine for a few hours to pick some things up. I'll probably come tomorrow if my mum holds me up.'

'It'll probably be best if you come tomorrow … tonight's not the best night.' Sirius was looking intently at the freckle on the inside of his middle finger whilst he said this, marvelling at the tiny brownish circle and wondering what on earth had caused it. An increase in melanin when fair people like him had so little to begin with?

'What's happening tonight Sirius?' James asked, the joking tone totally gone from his voice. He only ever spoke like this when he knew something was going to happen … he could sense it.

'The letter came today. I saw it. A Hogwarts letter notifying my parents about my course change and the sum of money needing to be paid to change all the exams I've been entered for and the need to re-enter the new exams I'll be sitting. James I-' he stopped talking and started biting his lip nervously.

'Come to mine today.'

'He's gonna be angrier. I have to face him now, apologise, tell him that Law was full up or offer some petty excuse or other. I don't know James. But I just have to go back home. I have to.' He trembled whilst he said this, freezing for just a moment to acknowledge the complete shit he would be in once he got home.

'Then I'll come. You know he doesn't get as angry when I'm there.' James said desperately. He knew he'd have to prepare himself for seeing Sirius with bruises or with a lip or a bust-lip the next day - he didn't want to have to prepare himself but if he didn't then he knew he'd do something so completely stupid and end up fucking up both their lives.

'It's fine James. Regs is home now. I'll be … fine.' The large bell close to them sounded, signalling an end of lunch and time to head to registration. James didn't move though. He just stared at his best friend and wasn't sure what to say, to do, to protect him. So James satisfied himself as much as he could with saying softly, 'Call me straight after you've … spoken to your dad. If you're not okay then for the love of god, come straight to mine okay? You have Classics now don't you?'

Sirius nodded. 'I'll meet you outside the changing rooms. Be quick though.' He told his friend whilst they walked to their registration class with McGonagall. They were a bit late but couldn't really care at all.

James kept staring at Sirius throughout the whole registration, wondering what on earth it would take for his friend to go to the goddamn police and tell them that his father was abusing him. Moreover, James wondered exactly when anything would be done? When Sirius was in hospital, when he was permanently damaged, when he was dead?

He couldn't stand the idea of Sirius being dead. Because James without his best friend, no, _his brother_, Sirius … wasn't really James at all, as gay as that sounded.

_xo_

It was obvious that Mr Orion Black was there when Sirius entered their home, thanked the maid and took a long route to get to the main living room. Inside, his father was pacing. His father who, despite Sirius having inherited most of his mother's looks, still looked irrevocably like his son, though Sirius was a slighter and prettier version.

He knocked on the door and his mother opened it, her eyes red and her cheeks tear-stained. 'Get in,' she whispered, opening the door wide enough for Sirius to enter and slamming it quickly after.

The room was very large with all its royal, majestic furniture spaced apart. There were old Victorian benches, a chandelier illuminating the room, a fireplace with a roaring fire and a mantle lined with pictures of a happy family, a laughing and grinning family. A family that was _totally the antithesis_ of what those goddamn pieces of card were showing.

His father was pacing before the fireplace, a piece of paper balled up in his fist. When the door closed, he looked up, like a predator catching the first whiff of prey, and met his son's eyes. Orion's were a bluish colour, a tinge of green somewhere in his orbs. He looked …

_Furious._

Sirius couldn't help but shiver.

'What's this?' Orion whispered, throwing the balled piece of paper at his son's head. Sirius didn't need to look though: he knew what would be inside.

'L-Law was f-filled up, s-so I c-chose Art instead-' Sirius hated stuttering, but it was the fear of feeling the pain his father would surely inflict on him that stopped him from talking properly.

'DON'T LIE TO ME!' Orion cried, practically leaping across the glass coffee table that stood between them, and grabbing Sirius by the lapels of his leather jacket. He threw his son against the wall and crushed their foreheads together, staring into his son's eyes and sneering. 'You're a little faggot, painting and sketching and drawing. And for what? A subject that won't matter in the slightest when you go to University!' Spittle was flying on Sirius's face. He reached up to wipe it almost subconsciously.

It seemed that was what blew Mr Orion Black's short, tiny fuse box. He started hitting Sirius, a cruel sneer flickering over his face. Sirius hit back, defending himself. He kicked his father, dodging the next staggering punch Orion tried to deliver to him.

'Stop!' Walburga was crying from behind them. 'Orion! STOP!'

But Orion didn't stop until he most certainly had the upper hand; he grabbed his son by his long hair and wrapped the other hand around his throat. 'You're going to swap back to Law on Monday.' He whispered into his son's ear, gazing intently at him and daring him to do anything but agree vehemently.

Sirius took up the dare as he shook his head and said just as quietly; 'I can't. Today was the last day.'

And Orion started hitting him again - harder and faster than before - and Sirius couldn't help but feel like he'd triumphed just a little bit.

You see, love is one of those tender, all-encompassing emotions. But hatred is all-encompassing too. And it absorbed Sirius at that moment so wholly and purely, he couldn't feel anything but hatred for his father.

_'I hate you.'_


	4. Tight-folded Bud Unfolding

**A/N: **I'm sorry if it seems like I'm rushing Sirius and Remus's lives, I just really want to get to the part where they're friends, which is now. There will be more in-depth character development now, and longer chapters and more intimate scenes that aren't so scarce. Like the next chapter which is the actual party.

Thanks to those who've reviewed. Enjoy this chapter! Thanks to _Mrs J Soup _for all the advice and to the guest review from _Lily_ xxx

* * *

_Chapter Four : Tight-folded Bud Unfolding_

* * *

Memories define human beings; they make us so individual and so unique: and though we as people can share certain characteristics we can never really share memories. Moreover, we can never share the way we view memories. They're like pages of a book, we're the narrators and each chapter is a different point in our lives.

A rite of passage, a transition, a stage. Well, Sirius and Remus sort of went downhill after their brief bonding moment during the last few days of the school term, exactly a week before Halloween. Despite sharing all the same fucking classes (which really was quite peculiar), they hadn't spoken once after that first Art lesson. Speaking of Art, they sat on the same fucking table and never spoke too.

Memories deserve to be treasured; they can never be relived, re-felt … re-loved the way it feels at that precise moment when they're being created. This is the day Sirius and Remus became friends - and it's the day that things started going downhill, though they didn't notice at first.

Because in some ways, they were never really meant to be together. But in other ways, their names were written in the stars, so tightly wound around one another's, it was impossible to tell apart.

This was the day that Sirius asked Remus for a fag...

_xo_

Remus had been smoking regularly now for almost two months, what with it being a week away from the end of November. He smoked when he most needed it, and acknowledged that in some way, he was already hooked. But that could have just been the feeling it brought him that made him addicted. The way it turned him into someone he didn't really recognise: someone calm, mellowed out and so focused on moving forward to look behind.

But in a way, it really did make him look behind. At the rough times after the hospital: the way everyone spoke about him in school for the remaining days, the cautious attentiveness his parents addressed him with, like he was so fragile he could break in seconds. He reflectively looked back on the self-cutting times, the crying, the harsh painting...

He shook his head and rubbed his temples with his spare hand, bringing the stick of tobacco to his mouth and inhaling heavily. It was divine; like the smoke absorbed the temporary sadness inside him and when it was exhaled, took the sombreness with itself.

'Got a spare fag?' a voice asked from behind Remus. He turned around with a jerk before he exhaled in relief, it was just that Sirius Black boy - the obnoxious, cocky one. 'Yeah,' Remus said very quietly, taking out the deck and flinging it to Sirius. There were two inside. 'Keep it.' He said. He wanted to buy one tomorrow morning anyway. 'You're a lifesaver,' said Sirius, kissing the deck and grinning at Remus. 'I left my wallet at home.'

Remus looked at him, watching Sirius covertly for a moment. He was stunned speechless at the grace and superiority the boy walked and laughed and smiled with: he was very handsome. But the irking side of that fact however, was that the boy certainly knew he was good-looking and used it to his advantage.

But Remus knew that if he himself looked like the boy opposite him, he'd use it to his advantage too. He wasn't one hundred percent sure when he knew he liked boys, just that for as long as he could remember, he'd always preferred looking at boys, laughing and messing about with boys … watching them the way they watched all those infuriating girls.

His first big crush _had_ been Edgar Bones despite the boy being about the best friend anyone could dream of. Maybe that was why Remus opened up to him and liked him so much. Remus missed him … he missed having friends, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to open up to people that much, trust them to care about him and watch as they abandon him. The way Edgar had done, the way all his other friends had done. He missed them very much.

'Lighter?'

Remus lit it and watched as the handsome boy leaned forward to burn the tip of his fag, and then leaned back to inhale rapidly until it started smoking itself.

'Thanks,' he murmured from the corner of his mouth, taking a huge drag and exhaling expertly. 'You're in all my lessons and you've never spoken to me once you know. I think it's always been me who's initiated the conversations.'

During Sirius's speech, Remus was appraising the area he was in. It was right behind the corner shop he bought his fags from. It seemed like the sort of place all the kids from Hogwarts went to smoke, if they weren't doing it on the campus first.

'Well I don't really know you.' Remus said simply, tossing the butt and throwing his bag over his shoulders.

'I'd like to get to know you! I mean you paint well, and you take all the same subjects as me. You have more in common with me than my best friend.'

Remus couldn't help but smile: he remembered watching them during one gorgeous Autumn morning in the courtyard and thinking how on earth were they best friends? They were _so different_, yet, at the same time, _strangely alike..._

'You known him long?'

'My whole life.' Sirius said, a large smile on his face, like he couldn't be more thrilled at knowing he always had someone to rely on. 'Only, I wish I didn't right now. He can't stop going on about some redhead bint.'

'Lily.'

'Don't tell me you like her too?' Sirius groaned, burying his face in one hand and laughing at the same time.

'Not in the romantic sense. But she's nice and she's smart. If that's your friend's type than by all means, tell him she's a good choice,' replied the French one. Well, as French as someone can be with a mother from the South of France and a father as Devon-bred as humanly possible to be.

Sirius smiled a mischievous smile; a glint in his eyes, a daring streak to the set of his mouth. 'Say,' he murmured, 'you're friends with that bint and I'm friends with the crazy guy who is completely colour blind and probably hasn't noticed the flaming ginger hair on that girl. Why don't you put in some good words for him? Hook up a date between them, get her to have a conversation with him, anything really.'

Remus worried his lip: did he really want to get involved where he had no business getting involved? It wasn't like he was best buds with Lily, or good friends with Black and that Potter guy. So then why was Remus's mouth forming the words, 'Alright,' without at all thinking the implications and possible repercussions of what he was doing.

'Yes!' Sirius said, dramatically punching the air whilst simultaneously flicking thick hair out of his eye. 'Alright. I'll tell James. He'll probably try to make you invite her to the Halloween party we're throwing next week at his conveniently empty house.' Sirius dashed the rest of the fag and looked at the time on his watch. 'Thanks for the fag. And remember, I expect to have Lily's answer by tomorrow.'

Their awkward and almost forced conversation continued to run through Remus's head throughout the remainder of the day: when he was watching Question Time with his dad and playing him in a bit of Fifa, even at the gym when he should have been thinking about breathing and certainly not about how confused he was.

The next morning was a chilly one - a morning that simply told Remus to wear gloves and a scarf. He wrapped up warm, tousling his slightly darker hair. There was less blond and more bronze and red now. He didn't mind it though; it certainly went well with the Christmas-y atmosphere plaguing the media and streets of London.

Remus was still adjusting to life here - it was wild. He saw a few girls fighting each other the other day at like ten when he came back from the gym and walked past the now familiar pub to meet his parents in the car. They picked him up all the time now, whether they were very busy, they found a way to pick him up and take him home safely.

On the plus side, it meant that Remus didn't have to take a bus and walk for ten minutes from the gruellingly far away bus stop. But he didn't have freedom. He used to, maybe too much of it, but now his parents simply had to know every place he went, who he was with, what he was doing … if he was safe.

As if they didn't trust him anymore.

Remus waited a few minutes and then walked out to where the rest of civilisation lay - in this case, a few Hogwarts students and some rowdy shopkeepers chasing kids away.

Oh, how Remus missed home in Devon, before everything happened. Before Greyback happened...

_xo_

It was going to be a big party. 'Very big!' James kept saying. He'd been treating Sirius very differently as of late, something he didn't usually keep up with when Sirius returned to him looking a little more battered and a little more hurt. But this time, after the fight with Orion over Law and Art, James seemed more … protective of Sirius. Like it was his responsibility to take care of his friend when it really really wasn't.

'You staying at mine tonight?' James asked.

'Nah, my parents want me back. I've been here for like four days now. Why don't you stay at mine instead?' said Sirius, flicking through a catalogue and ripping out yet another page of stuff to buy for the party. Streamers, decorations, lights, costumes and so much more. James was what they called a shopoholic. That trait was not reserved for only women apparently. He had the capacity to go out looking for a top and come back with at least a grand worth of merchandise, none of which consisted of a top or shirt or anything of the sort.

'Yeah, okay. Just for tonight. Anyway, who're you taking to the party?' said James, looking up over his catalogue and staring intently at his friend.

'Probably Dorcas. Everyone thinks she's my girlfriend anyway.' He said. Then he imagined what they would probably get up to sometime during the party, intoxicated off alcohol and god knows what. Sirius couldn't wait.

James's voice dropped a few decibels, and he stared at his friend intently. 'So you've _sorted_ … everything out?' he said, like he was talking to some imbecile.

Sirius sneered at his best friend, and spat out, 'If you're worried about me looking up guys during the party, believe me, I'll only be focused on Dorcas and that gorgeous arse of hers and what I pray to god she'll let me do to it. So don't worry, no one'll find out your best friend bats for both teams.'

The bespectacled one of the two glared at his best friend. 'You know I wouldn't mind if you came out Sirius-'

'But I'd mind! I'd care about what people would think! Would I be as popular? Would people still want to _pretend_ like they know me? And what would my family do? God,' Sirius whispered, 'What would my _fucking father_ do?'

A call jerked Sirius out of his dazed state: it was from his brother. He pulled out his phone and picked up.

_'Reg?'_ he asked, focusing intently on the phone call and not about what his dad would do to him if he found out Sirius liked guys too.

_'Where are you? And you better not say James's because mum wants you home right now.'_

_'Tell her I'm on my bloody way home with James. And tell Kreacher that she better have made some food because we're ravenous right now.'_

Sirius heard his brother laughing on the other side and he couldn't help but grin. So he didn't approve of the friends Regulus had, and he didn't like some of the things Regulus would say, his brother still meant the world to him and he would do anything for Reg. '_What have you two been getting up to then?'_

_'Oh, get your head out of the gutter. I'll be home in fifteen minutes then.'_ On the other line, he could hear his mother screaming up the stairs to Regulus, asking WHERE IS YOUR BROTHER REGULUS? _'Actually,'_ Sirius corrected himself, _'Five minutes. She doesn't sound very happy.'_

_'When does she ever sound happy?'_ Reg said before hanging up. Sirius cocked his head to James's bedroom door and said, 'Come on then. My house it is.'

James could waltz in the House of Black whenever he wanted doing whatever he wanted because Sirius's home was practically his second home: he'd spent more time at his best friend's house sometimes than in his _own_ house, especially when they had been young. 'I want to watch a movie,' he said, climbing the staircase and looking back to see that his best friend hadn't followed. 'Sirius?'

'I'm gonna go see what my mum wanted, go upstairs.' Sirius said, cocking his head up and braving a smile at his friend.

The joking disappeared from James's face in a flash: he nodded, looked at the doorway to the left of the grand staircase, and without another word hurried up the marble steps.

Sirius went into the main, largest living room and knocked, throwing the door open when his mother said in a monotonous voice, 'Enter.'

Sirius entered and stood before her as she inspected him. She usually did so, when it was just them two. But amongst this, she'd insult him till he was left raw before her, and tell him how hideous he was becoming; how nasty and rotten she thought he was.

'Stand up straighter,' Walburga snapped, loftily shaking her black silky tresses from her face and appraising her son with chilling, grey eyes. Her eyes raked over his body, but it wasn't similar to the way most people stared at him, with affection, lust or interest. Instead, Walburga Black watched her son like she couldn't be more disappointed. 'Take your hair out of that ridiculous ponytail. What are you? A girl. Have some self-respect. And you have lipstick on your cheek and collar. I suggest that if you continue to play around with these whores, make sure your discretions are not so obvious. What would people have said?'

Whilst she continued listing things that were wrong with Sirius, he zoned out momentarily. He had assignments to finish by Friday, and then there was no school for a week. His mother was taking a lot longer than usual with her daily lectures and attacks on him.

For as long as he could remember, his parents were quite strict. But they weren't necessarily nasty to him; they only started acting cold and unfeeling towards their eldest son when he expressed his own views: ones that weren't homophobic or racist or sexist. Ones that emphasised how little he cared about the aristocracy running through his veins.

He hated himself though, for how scared he had grown to become of his father. He wasn't as strong as his dad, and it hurt so bad when Orion had a little to drink and was angrier than usual.

Sirius winced when his mother's pincer-like fingers pinched his arm. He jerked it back and fixed her with a glare. 'Yes mother?' he asked.

'Tell James I said hello. Your father and I are going out. I'm off to meet him now. Kreacher will cook you something but she has the evening off, leaves at seven.'

'Alright,' her son replied.

'Try not to do anything stupid.' She sneered, staring at her son like he was a nasty fly on her shoe that wouldn't get off.

Sirius exhaled angrily and balled his fists. 'Yes mother.' He said, then without another word, he stormed out and hurried up the stairs. The house was very well furnished, but everything around Sirius was expensive and glass and seemed to radiate wealth. He didn't like it much, but only because he was scared to break something every time he ran past a cabinet that held china or silverware, or when he walked up the grand staircase which was lined with figurines and antiques.

He looked in Reg's room, saw that it was empty, and went into his own. James was sprawled on the bed, his eyes glued to the enormous screen on the wall. A film was on, but Sirius didn't really care. He just desperately wanted to get out of there. He hated it at home.

'So, you spoke to that Lupin guy in our classes? What did he say?' said James.

Sirius shrugged. 'He's quite cool. He said he'll try and help us out. I practically invited him to the party next week, he'll bring Evans hopefully if he does decide to come. I really don't think she's worth it mate. I mean, she's gorgeous and everything. But she's a demanding little bitch isn't she?'

James glared at Sirius. 'Sorry she's not submissive like Rebecca, Dorcas and all those other girls you've been out with.'

The long-haired one shrugged. 'They only really need to open their mouths for one thing, and that's not debating.' He laughed with his best friend, despite the punch he got. 'God, what's it with people hitting me today.'

'It's because you're being an arrogant arse again. And I said we'd work on that didn't I?' his friend reminded him. 'So, what did mummy say?'

'The usual stuff. What's wrong with your hair, why have you got lipstick on you, stop slouching you tramp blah blah.' He waved his hand dismissively. 'Alright, so your redheaded bint might be able to come with Remus. But I've got a genuine question for you here. If, and that's a really big IF, she comes, what are you planning to do with her?'

'Well, I'll tell her how rich I am. Surely that's going to interest her. And I'll also show her all the antiques in my house. I'll even turn a blind eye if she tries to steal something from my mum's jewellery box or whatever.' James nodded confidently to himself and then turned back to the large screen hung up on the opposite wall.

Low, rumbling laughter started - first quiet and crescendo-ing with each second that passed, until Sirius was flinging himself back on the large bed, tears rolling down his face as he threw his head back and roared with laughter. 'O-oh g-god,' he cried, 's-she's really n-not gonna want t-to go out w-with you.'

The expression that covered the other teenager's face was one of the deepest annoyance and confusion and that just made Sirius laugh harder; at the fact that James didn't get which part of what he said was wrong. And _Sirius_ was called the arrogant arse...

_xo_

The next proper conversation they had was in Art. They were supposed to be choosing artists to carry out research on, and Sirius, who always finished work quick, was now trying to recreate some Vemeer pieces. He had chosen Vemeer's most infamous painting, perhaps; _The Girl with the Pearl Earring._

The painting was stunning, but he was having trouble sketching her earring. The light contrasted so beautifully with the shadows surrounding it that he knew he'd have to sketch it perfectly but he couldn't. He huffed impatiently and grabbed the eraser to rub it out and start again, once again.

'Are you painting this? Or is it a pencil study?' a voice asked above Sirius's head. He looked up and saw Remus Lupin opposite him, already with a paint brush in his hand and some oil paints in the other.

'Painting it with acrylics. I just can't get the earring perfect.' Sirius explained, leaning back and appraising the picture.

'Well, what you've got right now should be more than enough. I mean, save your energy for when you're actually painting. We won't see the smudges or whatever when you've painted it. So focus on just using the acrylics perfectly instead of rubbing out the earring and sketching it again, over and over.' Remus said.

Sirius chewed his lip and stared down at his large sketch. The rest was well done. Very well done. Her eyes glittered, her skin shone and her jaw and lips were captured with brilliant accuracy, it looked almost real. 'Alright,' he said slowly, looking over at Remus's painting. It was already incredible, and it was hardly finished.

'So, I spoke to Lily.' The half-French boy said, a quick smile turning up the corners of his mouth for a short moment.

'Yeah?'

Remus nodded. 'Yeah. She'll come to the party with me. But I think it's only because most of her friends are going. And it's the first party of the year.'

'It's gonna be enormous.' Sirius said. 'Oh, I almost forgot.' He looked behind just to make sure Caroline wasn't looking, and then he flicked a full deck at Remus. 'As payback.'

Remus smiled softly but then his face smoothened out again. _Dammit._ Why was Black being so goddamn nice? He pocketed it and then nodded to Sirius. 'Thanks.'

It was the beginning, as cliché as this sounds, of a beautiful friendship. The party was the turning point though. Where they went from civil boys to boys who considered each other friends. And Remus really was the most sceptical, careful person out there. He had every reason to be but regardless, he hadn't had a friend in months.

He was so lonely. He'd look in the mirror and expect someone to stare back at him, someone with eyes not so hollow and dimpled cheeks and lips that knew how to smile. He'd forgotten how to these past few months.

The party was very big, but maybe that was because the house was so goddamn big too. Remus took the bus to meet Lily at the train station. She looked very pretty. She _was_ very pretty, but she knew what parts of her body needed to be enhanced, what makeup to use to emphasise certain traits; her eyes, her lips, her high cheekbones. The dress she wore was a sea blue, tight, and clashed magnificently with her bright red hair.

'Are you a mermaid?' he asked when he saw her, waving awkwardly and ducking his head when she appraised him.

'Yeah. I had this pretty old dress lying around and I thought, why not? It's not like I can afford a ten thousand pound dress like all these rich bastards. So, what are you?' she asked, standing in front of him and smiling.

'Erm, a werewolf. I thought the suit was enough of an indication.' He waggled an eyebrow and then smiled shyly and looked away.

'Werewolf? Cool. Personally, I've always been one of those Team Edward sort of supporters. The whole vampire thing turns me on. So, d'you wanna get a cab or take the train?'

They ended up taking a cab, and it was much cheaper than they anticipated; only fifteen quid. Remus smoked out of the window, ignoring the cab driver and tossing him a few pounds extra to get him to shut up.

Lily was much better company than he first anticipated. She was smart, though he already knew that. It was like she already knew him so well; she didn't talk when she saw him drifting off. And she didn't mind, she entertained herself on her phone and looked over to smile at Remus often, as if reassuring herself that he really was there and hadn't run off.

Remus was quite nervous about everything really. He was surprised that already, having responded to the people speaking to him, he'd already made friends. Friends who wanted to talk to him and who invited him out and seemed to enjoy the short amount of time they spent with him.

_But wait? When had they gone from people he knew to friends._

They got out the cab and looked around. Were they in the right neighbourhood? Right now, it was resembling what they expected a fucking palace to look like. The Potter manor was _enormous. _There were streamers, pumpkins, lights and cobwebs covering the dark house. Screaming echoed from inside the house, and loud music was blasting from the inside too.

There were girls screaming outside, a few boys chatting whilst they shared a joint, and one of them, unsurprisingly, was Sirius. He spotted Lily and Remus and beckoned them over.

Wound tightly around him was a pretty girl, but Remus couldn't remember her name. She took the joint out of Black's mouth, relit it for him, and placed it between his lips.

'Hey guys,' he said, grinning manically at them. 'This party's fucking amazing, isn't it? Anyway, get the fuck inside and enjoy yourselves. Wait, actually, I'll come in with you. Show you where the drinks are, where you'll find the drugs, where you'll find suitable beds if you're planning for a Halloween romp.' He kissed the girl hugging him quickly, then kissed her nose and lead Lily and Remus into the house.

There were people dancing together, on each other, behind each other and against each other. The music was throbbing and the red lights that had been installed were mind-fucking. Remus could not believe he was at such a crazy party.

When he imagined London, he imagined the house he was in right now, though perhaps not so vividly. But he imagined people drinking, doing drugs, having sex metres from their best friends, singing and screaming and dancing. He imagined everything he saw and even more.

'This is the kitchen,' Sirius shouted over all the noise, pointing at the door people were emerging from with drinks in their hands. 'Upstairs is where people are getting action. And down here is where the people with dignity are patiently waiting for some rooms upstairs to vacate so they can get some action of their own.' He winked at them.

'And the master of the house is,' he pulled open the downstairs bathroom door, revealing a bent of James who was rolling some joints, 'in here.' James looked up in shock, set down the rolled joint and jumped up. 'Lupin,' said James, extending his hand and shaking Remus's, 'nice werewolf suit.' He grinned. Then he turned to Lily, gulped, and blurted out, 'You look so hot I'd fuck you so hard right now.'

She didn't even wait for an apology. She just stomped on his toe, told Remus to keep his phone switched on and walked out of the toilet. Both Sirius and Remus were falling over each other with laughter at James's heartbroken expression.

'I said it aloud, didn't I?' James murmured, burying his face in his hands. He shook his head, turned to where his already-rolled joints were, and tossed some to Sirius. 'Erm, basically, let's just go and get fucked. You staying here the night Lupin?'

'He has a first name.' Sirius interjected, kicking an empty bottle on the floor. Remus took the opportunity to quickly assess Sirius in the light. He was clearly a Dracular or something of the sort; he had fake blood on his chin, white power on his face and his hair was jelled back. He wore a high collared cloak and a white shirt underneath with more fake blood. He looked pretty cool.

'Right, Remus, you staying over?'

'No.' He replied.

'Well, you can if you're too fucked later on. Lots of people are staying over, don't know where they're staying but they are. Now, let's get alcohol and drink till we pass out.' James grinned at them and then led the way to the high-ceiling kitchen, where Remus was a little intimidated to see bottles and cans of alcohol on the breakfast table.

'Take a pick.' Sirius said.

Remus gulped, grabbed the closest bottle, and drank until he couldn't drink anymore.


	5. Friends

_Don't walk behind me; I may not lead._  
_Don't walk in front of me, I may not follow._  
_Just walk beside me and be my friend._

_Albert Camus_

* * *

_Chapter Five : Friends_

* * *

Friendship is one of those godly beautiful things that everyone deserves to taste, feel and grow in. Friendship is like a blanket; it keeps us warm, gives us a meaning, protects us from the fierce loneliness purging the world.

It's very deadly though. Like a wild beast. But though beasts and friendship are similar in the sense that they can harm significantly, a wound from a beast's sharp teeth harms the body - on a physical level. But friendship harms the heart and mind and soul, and sometimes it leaves a mark that more often than not, isn't easily forgotten.

It's tentative at the beginning; Remus was careful of Sirius. He didn't jump into being best friends. But the party opened possibilities and doors for him that he had never even fathomed as of late. Let's return to the party for a bit, after James led Remus and his best friend into the kitchen and gave the half-French boy free reign over whatever drink he wanted.

_xo_

'Uh,' uttered Remus Lupin, running a hand over his face and gagging. It was disgusting. Why was he drinking it? What was he gaining from letting that godforsaken drink slither down his oesophagus into his stomach? 'Urgh,' he moaned again, lifting the drink to his lips, staring right at it and downing it. More cheers sounded around him. He didn't like it; the noise, people cheering him on like they knew him, like they were _friends_ with him. They wouldn't even talk to him if he wasn't at the most popular boy's Halloween party.

'Black! Black! Black!' People were chanting, and Remus looked over to the other side of the kitchen, curiosity etched plainly on his features, as he saw Sirius drink something that was a cruel concoction of _Jack Daniels, Bacardi, Patron, Malibu_ and so many more types of hard core, strong alcohol beverages. Sirius was gagging and pulling away only to attach his lips back onto the glass and take a few more swigs.

'God,' he kept shouting when he pulled away. But when this happened for the fourth time, he didn't pick the glass up and drink from it again. He jumped up and ran off in the opposite direction to where the front door was.

'Is he alright?' Remus asked, looking up at Peter Pettigrew, who had only just arrived. He looked nervous and a little frazzled but smiled when he saw Remus talking to him.

'He's got a strong stomach, I mean James drunk that and he's been outside in the garden for like twenty minutes. Sirius will be fine.'

But Remus wasn't so sure. He went outside to check that his only friend at the party, save Lily, was okay. There weren't people in front of the house anymore, or rather, many of them had gone inside. There were still three or four though.

One of those people was leaning against a wall, swaying and murmuring to himself. It was Sirius. He looked highly disturbed and very close to spewing everywhere. 'Sirius?' Remus began, and just like he had predicted, Sirius fell forward on his knees and started puking everywhere. Remus hurried forward, flinched at the physical contact, but held back the other boy's hair nonetheless. His own hair was getting a lot longer, if he was puking everywhere he'd want someone to hold his hair back for him.

'Have you got a fag?' the sick boy groaned hoarsely, wiping his mouth on a handkerchief and looking up at Remus. He had tears in his red eyes and his cheeks were flushed pink. Remus nodded and put a fag into his mouth. 'You can twos it with me.' He said. He lit it and inhaled.

'Are you alright?' Remus asked as he watched the boy trembling.

'Y-yes,' Sirius mumbled as he sniffed and shook his head. 'That was one mind-fucking drink, I'll tell you that.' But the rich teenager had evidently forgotten just how perceptive these scholarship students were; they weren't raised in the world of illusion that all these rich teenagers seemed to be clouded by. They were raised in the _real_ world. Where everything was real and honest and blunt - not cushioned by million pound parents and expensive cars and fake friends. They had _real _dreams and _real _doubts and in some ways, it was so much easier for them to survive. They knew what to expect. Rich people like Sirius didn't. Or so Remus believed anyway.

A phone started ringing and Sirius pulled it out of his pocket, spared the briefest of glances to the screen and pocketed it again. 'Have you seen my _friend_ around inside … thanks,' he said, taking the half of the cigarette left for him.

'Which friend?' asked Remus.

'The girl I was kissing earlier.' He was hard to understand, he spoke with such a slur that didn't seem to suit the posh, refined voice he spoke in.

'Erm, no, I haven't seen her.'

'Oh, well, let's go back inside. There are drinks, drugs and some gorgeous birds.' He stood up with the help of the wall, and groaned. 'God, I'm gonna regret this in the morning.' He said.

Remus was surprised at how comfortable Black seemed with him, like he had been speaking to Remus for months and not less than a week. 'I really think … you should … you know, stay over.' He really was too drunk. He could hardly even speak properly.

'I can't. My mum and dad will get worried,' he said, and with a surprised jolt, realised that his voice was slurring too, and his Devonshire accent was strengthening little by little.

'Where are you … come from?' then Sirius side-tracked, wondered what he said wrong, and corrected himself with a nervous laugh, 'Where do you _come_ from?'

Remus stood beside him and looked up, at the beautiful night sky. Well, it wasn't as beautiful as it was in Devon, but in a way, it was more stunning, more feral and less dainty. 'My mother is French, lived there until she was about our age, maybe a little older, and then she moved with her mum and brother to Devon.'

'So you're from France and Devon? Your mum married a thorough Devoner then?' the other replied with a friendly laugh.

Remus nodded slowly, drunkenly, and smiled widely at his friend. _Friend._ The word seemed foreign in his head; like a word in his vocabulary that hadn't needed to be used at all in the last few months. A word that had tasted bitter and cruel on his tongue but was slowly being reacquainted with his taste buds.

'Yeah, my dad's from Devon. I was born and raised there up until the end of Year Eleven.'

Sirius quirked an eyebrow at Remus and tilted his head. 'What ... what happened?' despite his drunken state, Remus was annoyed to see that the smart boy was still very observant and good at piecing together the snippets the French boy was revealing of his life.

'We needed change. _I_ needed change, a chance to move on ... I don't know...' he found himself saying very quietly.

'I've noticed you don't like being around people.' The dark-haired one said softly, his eyes glued now to the midnight sky. He was nervous to look back down and break their breathless silence, with tension cackling vigorously in the air.

'So?' said Remus, daring Sirius to challenge him and continue.

'Just an observation,' the other replied before he straightened up again. 'I'm just gonna ask Benjy over there if he's got a fag to spare, one sec.' Sirius told his _friend_ before he smiled briefly and left Remus alone against the wall he stood by.

Sirius returned moments later. After sharing the fag with Remus again, they made their way back inside together, Remus going into one of the toilets to call his parents and tell them he was okay, and Sirius off to look for his supposed girlfriend. He hadn't danced with her once since the party started.

And an annoyed Dorcas was a Dorcas one would not wish to engage in amorous activities with.

Charlotte Lupin picked up the phone almost immediately.

When her son had said he was going to a party, she had told him "No!" and he had said patiently after her exclamation, "Okay."

He hadn't fussed or screamed, he understood why she said no and he accepted it. Because Remus knew that though he was starting to get over it, his mother was still struggling, still holding on to the fact that _she_ was a mother and _she_ let her son _down_.

But she never let Remus down. He had let _her_ down and he felt so bad for it.

John had spoken to her of course, and they set a curfew of twelve o'clock. Reasonable, some would say. Stingy for others. But for Remus, it was more than enough because no one was _like_ him, no one understood what he was going through and had gone through with his parents. If they wanted him home at eight, he wouldn't have hesitated. Of course, the party had started at like nine but the sentiment remained the same.

He wasn't a selfish boy. He empathised with his parents and knew that sometimes, it was only the passing hours that could heal what Greyback had broken and not a bunch of apologies and court sentences. They acknowledged what Greyback had done and were in the process of coming back from it. They lived in _London_ now, a city that John had sworn to never live in. For protection and for a _change._

'Hey mama,' he said softly on the phone, glad that the thick bathroom door was blocking out most of the noise of music and screaming and laughter.

'You sound like you're having fun.' She laughed, but Remus could hear the nervous edge to it. Like she was very close to breaking down.

He cleared his throat and focused solely on the sound of her voice. 'I'm fine mama. I'm thinking of heading back now. Wanna come and-'

'Oui, oui, oui,' she shouted, her voice resonated relief and happiness. 'Give me the address.' Within minutes, she was dressed, in the car and promised that she was about twenty minutes away.

Remus exited the room and looked for Potter and his new _friend_ Sirius. Oh, and Lily Evans of course. He found her first, dancing with some of her friends and holding a mostly full bottle of beer. It was obvious that she wasn't much of the drinker type. When she saw Remus, she waved him over and detached herself from her friends to go to him.

'You're leaving now aren't you?' she asked, a small smile on her face and a dazed twinkle in her vivid green eyes.

He nodded. 'I'll see you around though unless you wanna come to the front of the house and get a lift from my mum.'

'I haven't even got money left over for a cab. Erm, let me see what the other's are doing. I'll come meet you out though.'

Lily watched him for a long moment and then said over the music, 'You had fun, right?'

'Yeah,' he replied to her. When she leaned forward to hug him, he flinched. She didn't notice though, reminding Remus that she really wasn't as sober as she appeared to be. He patted her back gently a few times before stepping back, smiling at her and leaving.

He decided that checking in the kitchen was his best shot at finding Sirius and Potter to say goodbye, after all, his mother had taught him the importance of manners at a young age and she'd get seriously angry at him if she found out that he just walked out of Potter's house without so much as a farewell.

The kitchen was, of course, packed with drinkers and participants of the drinking contest that seemed to be going on. Well, it wasn't much of a contest really. Just guys showing off to each other about how much they could drink and girls trying to impress those guys and get into their pants the same way they so desperately wanted to get into their knickers.

Sitting at the forefront of it all and nursing a shot glass filled with scotch was James Potter of course. He looked at Remus like he couldn't recognise him, then shouted, 'Randal!' and beckoned Remus over.

'Remus,' the half-French corrected, shaking his head and shooting a glare at the few people who giggled. 'I'm off now.'

'Why?' cried James, 'there's so much left to be done.'

'Yeah well, I'm sure I'll stay for longer at your next party.' The next _inevitable_ party. Potter already struck Remus as a nice enough chap, but one that couldn't survive without being in the throng of socialisation and talk and in the presence of his fellow peers and their thoughts.

'Alright then, well, if you don't wanna stay over, I guess I'll see you around.' He said, his voice not as posh as his best friend's but still refined and even more so thanks to his drunken slur.

'D'you know where Sirius is. I'll say bye to him then head out.'

James grinned at Remus drunkenly, his eyes glinting behind his glasses. 'He's upstairs … _with Dorcas,_ and you know what that means.'

'Somewhat. Well, just tell him I said bye.'

'Rem,' James said, leaning towards Remus and seeming to remember _who_ this boy was and _why_ he was so important as well as acting for a short moment like they were best friends. 'Is redhead going with you?'

'Lily, d'you mean?' the other replied with a short laugh. 'I'm not sure.'

'Could you tell her I said bye? I'm scared to go near her,' Potter admitted, a shy smile on his charming face. Remus shook his head, laughed shortly and shrugged.

'I'll try. But maybe you should start talking to her instead of shouting things at her like how hot you think she is and how much money you've got in your bank.' With that, Remus nodded one last time at Potter and walked off to the front of the house. Lily did in fact come to him minutes after, telling him that she wanted to go home too.

'Potter said bye, in case you were wondering,' said Remus, looking up from where he was sat on the steps outside the house.

'I don't care what he says! He's an arrogant brat who always shouts the most _embarrassing,_ _crude_ things to me.' She cried, tossing her long red hair back and staring stonily ahead. Then her shoulders slumped and she sighed.

'I'm not the biggest fan of alcohol you know.' Lily said, shaking her head.

'Neither am I, really. But when the mood strikes me,' he winked and she laughed radiantly.

'Your mother wouldn't mind dropping me to Acton, would she?' asked Lily. She nodded when Remus replied 'Yes' and got out her phone to ring her mother and tell her that she was on her way home.

Charlotte Lupin was very fast; eager to get to her son as quickly as she could. She didn't want anything to happen to him. And she thought that if she never let him down again, it could make up for her letting him down the night he almost _died_. _In her arms._ Her baby almost died. She would never forget how pale and cold he'd gone. How his lips had turned blue, how his eyes were closed shut and wouldn't open.

The car pulled up at the house and she got out, looking first at her content son and then the pretty girl beside him. Was she his girlfriend?

'Mon chéri,' Charlotte said, pulling her son into a tight hug and kissing his cheek. 'Who is she?' she asked in French and laughing when her son shook his head.

'My friend,' he replied.

'Not a girlfriend, right?'

'No, she's not my girlfriend mama. Now, is it alright if you drop her off? She'll give you the address. It's not too far from here.'

'Of course, yes. Come on then. Let's go!'

Lily waited until they were in the car and driving before she said to Remus, almost bitterly, 'I didn't know you were French.'

'I'm only half. Besides, it's not something I'd _randomly_ bring up in the few times we've spoken-'

'Oh no, we're going to speak a lot more now. You can't invite me to go to a party with you and then return to ignoring me.' She had a cheeky grin, and her face was flushed with both happiness and exertion.

'Remus was ignoring you?' Charlotte said, rolling her 'R's and beaming at her son's friend. It felt like forever since she last saw him with someone. He'd cut himself off from a lot of people, he'd even tried to cut himself off from his own damn _parents._ They hadn't let him of course - like they would ever stand by and watch their baby grow more and more distant from the people who cared most for him as the wounds he carved into his skin grew deeper and deeper and he wore them without shame or disgust.

As if he wanted to remind himself that he was only human and would stay human for as long as he lived.

'He ignores everyone Mrs Lupin,' Lily chirped, laughing softly when Remus fixed her with a mutinous glare.

The look that passed between Mrs Lupin and her beloved son said more than any outsider could fathom: to Lily it seemed like a scolding glance from Charlotte, but to Remus it was a promise that they would talk _later_. Or rather, his mother would cry and scream and tell him things were better and he would sit, still like ice, and vacant - letting the words she would say wash over him.

'Not anymore,' Remus murmured. 'I came to the party everyone was talking about, didn't I?'

'Oui!' said Lily, another one of those playful grins masking her face. She was flourishing before them, and despite her tired state, flushed cheeks and weary eyes, she had a radiant smile plastered on her heart-shaped face. 'But that was only because Black was pushing you to, wasn't he?'

'Who's Black?' Charlotte said, her eyes focused on the road ahead (and the sat-nav just above the steering wheel) but flicking occasionally to the boy to her left.

'He's just a boy in my year who shares all the same lessons as me.'

'All the same lessons?' Remus's mother repeated, her eyebrows going up. It was quite surprising for him to not only take the same unusual pick of subjects as Remus, but to also be in all the same lessons as him too.

'Yeah,' murmured Remus.

'And he invited you to the party? Are you friends?' Charlotte questioned, and it sounded as though she had many more questions to ask at the same time too but didn't want to embarrass her son any further.

'Somewhat,' her son replied. And she could tell that the conversation was over.

'So,' Lily said, 'were you born in France Mrs Lupin?'

Charlotte's face lit up at the thought of her old home, back in the South of France. Despite her annual visits, usually with her son and if she was lucky, her husband, to a town near Arles, she still missed her old home with her family. Her brother had stayed in England with her but their mother had returned after they were old enough and could fend for themselves. Charlotte's mother had missed the place she had spent four decades in and returned to the sisters and brothers she had in Arles when her job as mother was as done as it could ever be.

She told Lily during the fifteen minutes remaining of the journey all about France, about the fun she'd had and the freedom her family had given her. Then she spoke about moving to Devon, meeting Remus's father and enjoying his passionate chase of her before she finally broke and accepted his request to take her out.

But when they were getting to the good part, in Lily's opinion, they were at her home and it was time for Lily to leave. 'Thank you so much Mrs Lupin, for the stories and for the lift. I'm sure Remus must get his abruptness from his father if not from you.'

Charlotte laughed and shook her head. 'No, it's not from his father too. It's totally _him_-' as she said the last word, she emphasised it with her half-hearted slap at her son's head. 'It was lovely to meet you chéri, I shall see you soon I hope.'

Lily leaned over to give Remus a big smile and a small wave and then she jumped out of the car and hurried to her front door, her red hair billowing out behind her.

'What was it _now_?' Charlotte brushed her dark blonde hair out of her face, changed the address on the sat nav and followed the path it laid out for her. She didn't speak for a few minutes, waiting for her son to answer whilst he waited for her to just leave him alone. 'Did they want to be friends with you? Did you even _try_?'

'I don't need to try!' he spat angrily before he even knew what he was doing. That didn't stop him. 'I'm smart enough to know that you're never satisfied with my friends. You never used to be but now I can't so much as smile at someone without you questioning _me,_ questioning _them_ and asking for every detail. I'm not going to break mama!'

They were at home. It was much quicker from Lily's house than Remus expected. He could see teenagers with bags filled to the brim walking around, lobbing sweets at each other and eating some of it.

Charlotte stopped the car, stared resolutely ahead and then turned ever so slowly to her left, where her son sat silently. 'You haven't started again have-'

'I don't do it anymore mama,' he said scathingly, inspecting the fur from the werewolf costume clinging to his finger. 'I'm sure you'd notice if I did.'

'What's that supposed to mean?' she whispered, and when he didn't answer her, she slammed the horn of the car and shouted this time, fluently in her mother tongue of course, 'WHAT'S THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN REMUS?'

'It means that you spend so much time watching me that you barely even _know_ me. No, wait mama. You notice everything I do but you don't know what I think anymore, what I like anymore...' than, in a mice-like whisper, '… _who I like_...'

Charlotte didn't pick up on the small hint her son gave her and he in turn didn't develop what he said any further. He watched his mother's beautiful eyes, so similar in shape to his, begin to well with tears. But not a single one fell. She was brave and strong she was. After everything she had dealt with, she had to be brave.

He threw open the door, only noticing now that it was raining, and walked around the car to the front of the house, ringing the bell. His father, with a large smile and a glint in his amber eyes, threw open the door and immediately enveloped his son into a tussle.

Remus half-heartedly pushed his father away from him, kicked his boots off, and hurried up the stairs to his room. The slam of his bedroom door vibrated in both sound and force through the small house. Neither parent followed their son.

_xo_

The sunlight was thrown into the room by the window beside the very large four-poster bed. The vintage engravings on the headboard and the wooden beams of the bed were both part of the design and handmade thanks to the pocket knife James bought Sirius for his birthday when he turned eleven.

The floor was a beautiful ebony, and contrasted magnificently with the cream and grey of the walls. The high-ceiling of Sirius Black's bedroom had a chandelier raining beams of light and glittery reflections on every surface of the large room.

It was well kept due to Kreacher and her hard-working ways.

Nestled in the bed, spooning his _friend_, was Sirius. The sunlight in that moment decided to shine directly on his dozing face; with his mouth only slightly ajar and his long thick eyelashes fluttering as he stirred. Dorcas was sleeping, his arms wrapped around her still form. He squeezed her in affection and kissed her hair, sniffing the gorgeous scent that radiated, like rays, off her.

When Sirius straightened up and slipped carefully away from Dorcas, a low tormented moan left his mouth. His head was on _fire_. Everywhere hurt. He couldn't even remember how he'd gotten home yesterday when he was supposed to have stayed with James at his house. But considering the number of people who had said they were staying at the Potter manor, he probably wouldn't have minded if Sirius decided to take things back to _his_ house, in _his_ room, on _his_ bed.

It was too bright to be Autumn; maybe summer had come quickly. Dorcas started stirring behind him, and like Sirius, she groaned low in her throat when she moved too quickly and thought too hard. The sun blinded them and Sirius had to shuffle out of bed to close the curtains.

'God, why's it so bright?' she murmured, stretching languidly in Sirius's bed and grinning playfully at him. 'Come 'ere,' she said, cocking her head. She wrapped her arms around him when he neared and kissed him fully on the mouth.

So the taste of alcohol and all the substances consumed last night still lingered in their too-drunk-to-have-brushed-my-teeth-last-night mouths but if Dorcas didn't care, Sirius didn't either. They were both a little too naked for comfort. But Sirius had always been comfortable in his well-built body, just as Dorcas was confident to roll around on his bed in nothing at all.

He leaned up to plant one more kiss on her mouth. 'You sort of need to go now. I'm sure my mum'll-'

As if on cue, Walburga Black started shouting from downstairs, 'SIRIUS! WAKE UP! AND GET DOWNSTAIRS _NOW_!'

'It's alright,' she said softly, 'I'll just see you later. We're still going cinema right?'

'Would you be able to focus in the cinema? Right now, all I can focus on is this hangover.' He moaned, covering his eyes and gulping. 'We'll talk about it later though. I'll ring you.' He said softly.

Dorcas nodded and stood up slowly, picking up articles of clothing and putting them on. First her skimpy underwear, then her bra, then her tights and her red skirt before finally, she looked up at her friend. She was sick and tired of always having to call him her _friend_. They slept together often and really enjoyed it, they went out sometimes, just the two of them, and they kissed whenever they saw each other. Wasn't that what being girlfriend and boyfriend was about?

Or did Sirius not yet want to announce officially that he was off the market? Did he not want to have to turn down girls?

'Have you got a jumper I can wear? I already have to wear my devil skirt, I don't want to wear my devil top too. I'll look like such a tramp.'

'Of course,' he said, standing up and slipping some boxers on. He pulled out a Hollister jumper and threw it to her. 'I want that back though. It's my favourite jumper.' He said.

'If I see you tonight, I'll bring it back,' she said as she walked to the en suite bathroom and started pampering herself; reapplying her mascara, putting on some dark red lipstick, rubbing concealer into the blemishes on her face. 'You're lucky you don't need to wear makeup. It's such a hassle.'

Sirius laughed. 'I've worn makeup before. Remember when I went to that awards show with my mum? She made me get my hair and makeup done by some wretched old stylist woman. And remember how I missed school for like a week because I was at some family convention where we praised the fact that we're related distantly to the Queen and had Lords and Ladies in our families before they snuffed it? Well, I'd been pampered the whole night before to ensure I was handsome enough to take pictures for the society pages in magazines and newspapers.' During his short speech, he'd been dressing himself and kissing her cheek, neck, and hair every few seconds.

Dorcas turned around when she deemed herself acceptable to get home and said to Sirius, 'Can your chauffeur give me a lift?'

'I'm gonna go and meet James now. We'll drop you off home first.' He took her hand, kissed her quickly on the lips and started to drag her through the bathroom, past his bed and into the hallway between his room. His mother started shouting some more, and pretty much instantly, Kreacher was hobbling up the stairs.

'I'm up Kreacher,' Sirius shouted bluntly. 'You don't need to wake me. Can you get the chauffeur ready and tell him that we're taking Dorcas home and then going to Potter's.'

Her eyes darted between Sirius and the girl whose hand he held, then, without another word she nodded and hurried back down the grand staircase.

'God,' moaned Dorcas, 'I'm from a rich, well-off family but your family are so fucking rich and stuck-up.' She laughed.

Sirius nodded quickly. 'I know. I hate it when we have guests over. Watch. You wanna stay for breakfast?' he asked.

Despite shaking her head, Dorcas's stomach growled loudly. She elbowed him to get that smug smile off his face. 'Yesterday was a fucking _crazy_ night alright. Okay, whatever. What's for dinner?'

'Just about_ everything_,' he said bitterly, taking her hand again and leading her through the enormous home into the cavernous kitchen; with a domed ceiling, several chandeliers illuminating it as well as the enormous windows decorating almost all the walls, save the one connecting the room to the rest of the house.

Seated around the large breakfast table was Walburga and Regulus. The absence of Orion from the house was prominent; Regulus was smiling a little brighter, Walburga wasn't as fidgety and Sirius felt like he could fucking _breathe_. He stood in front of Dorcas and led her into the room, saying at the same time, 'Mother, I've invited a guest over for breakfast if that's alright.'

Both Walburga and her youngest son looked up simultaneously, the same curious expression plastered on both their faces. Whilst Regulus's face lit up with glee and amusement (he remembered Meadows from the numerous amount of times he passed her in Hogwarts' halls), Walburga's face contorted into one of surprise and annoyance.

She too recognised her son's supposed friend for two main reasons: the first being that the Meadows were a famous family in the close-knit society of wealth and affluence in the city of London. The second reason however was predominately due to the fact that Sirius Black really wasn't as discreet as he thought he was. All those secret trysts did not pass Walburga unnoticed. She had seen the girl leaving in the morning through the back door in clothes from previous nights and sometimes even Sirius's clothes.

'Her name is Dorcas Meadows, mother. She's a very important friend of mine.' Sirius said slowly, his eyes boring into the woman a few metres from him, watching and waiting impatiently; nervously, like he was scared she was going to flare up in the usual Walburga-_fucking_-Black manner.

'Well,' his mother said very quietly, 'come, come. Join us for breakfast Dorcas.' She said, gesturing to the feast laid out on the glass table. It was enough food to feed a family of ten, and yet the table was only inhabited by two lonely people, joined seconds later by two others.

Sirius shovelled food onto his plate and began stuffing his mouth, remembering just how _hungry_ the activities from last night had made him. Though now he came to think about it, he hadn't eaten properly at all since breakfast, yesterday morning.

It was when a sharp high-heeled foot collided with his shin that he choked a little, coughed some of his food up and consequently glared at his mother. The stony sneer she rewarded him with was more than chilling - he actually shivered.

'Eat with some dignity, Sirius. We have a guest.' She spat, smiling tightly at Dorcas and fixing another cold stare at her son. 'Straighten up, where are your table manners, boy? And chew whilst you eat.'

'Yes mother,' he hissed breathlessly, raising his eyes to meet Dorcas's and barely restraining a laugh. Even though the poor girl was starving, she hadn't shovelled more than one small pancake onto her plate. The platter of kippers and sausages in front of her lay ignored, as did the egg and fruit and toast.

'Are you sure you don't want anything … _filling_ to eat?' a voice piped up from the other side of the table. It was Regulus of course, who spared only the shortest of grins to his brother.

'I'm fine,' Dorcas replied politely, lifting her glass of fresh orange juice to her lips and sipping delicately from it. The gesture reminded Sirius horribly of those functions and charities his parents would cart him and Reg off to.

The rest of breakfast passed in a similar fashion; Walburga pretended to be polite to the girl sitting beside her son, Sirius watched with some fear but mainly just annoyance, Regulus's eyes were fixed on the scene with avid attention and Dorcas wished she could be anywhere but in the kitchen right then.

The clock struck ten and their eyes, one by one, flickered to the large old-fashioned clock fixed to the wall. 'Is that the time already?' said Sirius, yawning. 'Don't you have somewhere to be Dorcas?' he asked.

'Yes.' She answered softly. 'My mother's expecting me.'

'Greet your mother for me dear,' Sirius's mother said, smiling radiantly, but at the same time calculatingly, at her son's _special friend_. In reality, she would have loved to personally greet Mrs Meadows and tell her to keep a tighter leash on her daughter, but elegant, wise women did not interfere in business that didn't concern them.

'Of course Mrs Black. It was lovely to officially meet you ma'am. Good seeing you again Regulus.' She said as politely as she could. Her good-manners, though usually non-existent, seemed to be returning with more vigour that day than usual.

'I've left some stuff at James's house, mother. I'll be back by dinner though, I promise.' Sirius said, standing up himself and holding out a hand for Dorcas. He pushed her in front of him, closer to the door, as if shielding her from the terrible beast _Walburga_ and turned to face his mother. 'I'll even pick up if you call me.'

'No later than four. You have some family coming around.'

'Andromeda? Uncle Alphard?'

'Aunt Druella and Narcissa-'

Sirius groaned as inconspicuously as he could under his breath and said, 'For fuck's sake.'

'Four o'clock Sirius. I'll send for you to be picked up from James's house.' Then, without another word of even a _farewell_, she turned to the paper she was holding, almost automatically flicking to the society pages.

Sirius winked at his brother before all but dragging Dorcas from the kitchen to the front door. They couldn't breathe until they were standing outside, waiting for the car to drive around and pick them up. The limousine was slick, long and black with more than enough space inside. He didn't speak until they were seated safely inside and driving around the house to get to the main gates.

'I'm so sorry about all of that. I thought she'd be in a happier mood. Ah well, at least she didn't start _screaming_ at you. She did that last time I brought someone around for breakfast without permission and without warning. You see, my mother needs time to compose her serpentine character or else she'll reveal to the whole world how evil she really is.'

Dorcas started laughing and flicked her long hair behind her. She reached up to place a hand on her boyfriend's cheek and then she kissed him. 'Sirius …' she asked, 'are we boyfriend and girlfriend?'

He kissed her back and nudged her nose with his own. Sirius was a fairly affectionate teenager, considering that all he ever had growing up was Regulus, James and the unconditional love Mr and Mrs Potter provided for him. He'd always valued people and the comforts people brought to others very dearly.

And the thing was, he liked spending time with Dorcas: he liked kissing her, sleeping with her, laughing and spooning and going out with her. He thought she was perhaps the most attractive girl in their year and on top of that, she was the one he always took to parties and gatherings.

_So didn't that mean she was his girlfriend then?..._

'I'd like you to be my boyfriend...' she breathed, her voice losing confidence with each syllable she uttered. Her eyes fell to her hands in her lap and her lips trembled with fear.

Sirius couldn't stand the sight of her, looking so downcast and frightened, that he didn't bother stopping himself from holding her face tightly in his hands, kissing her again and again and telling her rather abruptly, 'Wanna be my girlfriend?'

But then again, it wasn't abrupt at all. This was Sirius Black. Nothing he did was abrupt.

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**A/N: **Bare in mind that this has just been written and it's like 2am where I am right now, and I'm exhausted haha. I hope you liked this update. Thanks to all the people who've followed, favourited and left comments on this story.

Please review xx


	6. Introductions

**A/N: **Sorry for the long wait, life has just been hectic. I hope you enjoy this chapter xx

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_Chapter Six : Introductions_

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Secrets are what make people different. But the ways in which we harbour secrets, locked within us or shared with that one special person, makes us similar. Because it's usually inevitable until our secrets come out: until we are faced with the ugly truth, alongside all those we care about. When we face the truth, we turn sharply from it: we _already know_ what it looks like.

But those who we hold dear to us who are oblivious, they stare at secrets with a ferocious yearning to know what is going on; what will happen, what it means. Usually, secrets are either humiliating, dangerous or the holder of the secret is in some serious denial.

Sirius's secret about "batting for both teams" is more the fact that he's been out with lots of girls, enjoys it emotionally, physically and mentally, but can't not wonder about what life would be like with a … a _boy_. Whether the conventional beauty of girls and hips and breasts can somehow be transferred to the male model: the muscles, the firm set of the jaw.

Sirius and Remus hit it off; they were friends almost instantly. Similarly in the case of Remus and James Potter. It was suddenly like Remus had been friends with them for years, not a few short weeks. They hung out with him during school, after school for their customary fag and well ... it felt like friendship, _real friendship._ But Remus couldn't ignore the glances he'd get from his mother when she picked him up a little later from school, when his phone went off, when he asked to go out on the weekend. It was similar to the way Sirius was scared to really make his relationship with Dorcas known; he knew what type of girl she was.

A possessive one. A demanding one, albeit her submissive tendencies. He had changed his Facebook status to _In a Relationship with Dorcas Meadows_ and he held her hand a bit more but he was nervous as ever. He'd never had a girlfriend before - girls he went out with a few times and made out with, yes. Girlfriends? _No, perish the thought!_

It was pretty much the same with Dorcas and the sense of familiarity definitely calmed Sirius down and stopped him from freaking out. But now there were added formalities they needed to go through: he needed to introduce her to his father, as Walburga and Dorcas had already met. He felt the sudden need to lavish her with presents; jewellery, taking her out to dinner. It sort of meant that he had less time to spend with James, Peter and his new friend Remus.

Sirius was at the canteen with James and Peter in the afternoon of Thursday - the days were getting colder and shorter and most people ate in the canteen now; the great hall and its food could bring to them shelter and warmth in a way sitting outside could not. The food was boiling hot - waves of steam radiating from it as Sirius shovelled fork after fork of lasagne into his mouth.

'My mum wants me to invite you three around,' a voice said from behind Sirius. He turned around and broke into a grin when he saw his friend.

'For?' asked James, polishing off his lasagne and digging into his treacle tart straight after without even a second's pause.

'For dinner.' Remus replied, and evidently, he did not want them to come around for dinner. But the manner in which he answered James suggested that he really had no choice.

'Yeah, but what for? To make sure we're worthy of being your friend? To interview us?' said James, a light and welcoming smile on his face.

No one but Sirius noticed the way Remus's face tightened, in pain, as he laughed half-heartedly and look quickly back down at his food - his fruit salad and his bottle of water. 'Something like that.' He whispered so quietly, so breathlessly, the statement was carried away by the noise of the other students eating around them.

They were interrupted when Dorcas Meadows, pretty as ever, strutted to the table, appraised the four seated boys, and took her own seat beside her boyfriend. 'Hey,' she said, tossing her dark hair behind her.

'Hey Dorc,' murmured James, a twinkle in his eye. He was already thinking up line after line of dirty innuendos and jokes when he watched his best friend and the girlfriend start making out. They really did leave nothing to imagination. Sirius kissed her again briefly before turning back to the others.

'She's trying to persuade me to stay long enough at her house to say hello to her mother.' Sirius explained when Dorcas started pouting and frowning.

'Wait,' said Peter, 'I don't get it. You weren't boyfriend and girlfriend before, but you kissed and went out on dates and slept together-'

'Peter!' interjected James, amusement and laughter etched plainly on his handsome features. With a discreet wink, however, he signalled to the blond haired boy to continue being an absolute idiot and blab whatever it was he was blabbing. Did he even have a point? What was he trying to achieve by saying so much nonsense?

'No disrespect of course,' the short blond boy said hurriedly when Sirius's expression soured with each word, _no_, each _syllable._ 'I just mean that nothing's changed between you two. You're still going out with each other on dates, you still kiss and hold hands and you still sleep together, or at least, I think you do.' His face dropped and his eyes screwed up with concentration as the clogs in his brain worked furiously hard to try and get him out of the situation he had of course gotten himself into. 'N-not that I've b-been stalking you g-guys or anything, but-'

He was cut off when James, Remus and even Sirius burst out laughing. It attracted a lot of attention, their laughter. The former slung an arm around Peter's shoulders, still chortling, and ruffled his hair, crying at the top of his lungs: 'And this is why we hang out with you Peter!'

There were tears of mirth in James's eyes, Sirius had buried his face in the crook of Dorcas's neck, trying to stifle the noise of his laughter, and Remus was staring down, puzzled at the sincerity of the noise he had just made. He'd forgotten, for a short moment, who he was and he never forgot who he was - in fact, he knew himself now more than ever thanks to the events that had unfolded earlier in the year.

Something was happening to him; something dreadful and dangerous and possibly heart-breaking - he was making friends. The sort of friends one does not want to have but at the same time, so desperately yearns for. He wasn't going to lie to himself: Remus had always wanted friends like the two (and a half, he guessed) sat before him.

Despite, of course, his obvious envy at their cultured, rich lives - lives that he had never lived or even wished for.

He took his apple from the table and bit into it, letting the juicy, vibrant liquid from the round red fruit drip into his mouth. The noise of the drips resembled the sound of clocks ticking.

Tick, tock. Time was ticking: it was _beginning._

_xo_

He didn't know what to expect, Sirius didn't. He was at the house of someone that totally confused him: Sirius was good at inspecting people, understanding them, empathising with them. But this foreign boy, Remus Lupin, half French and half Devonshire if that even made sense, was different.

This utterly middle class, on-a-scholarship, West England boy confused Sirius and he did not like to be confused!

He envied Remus Lupin: Remus, whose parents seemed to have encouraged him to paint and draw rather than throw textbooks and expectations at him. Remus, who so obvious was raised with love and warmth and kisses; something that was very alien to Sirius. His only sources of affection came from an uncle that he wasn't allowed to see very often anymore, a cousin who was as alienated as him and a brother who seemed to, little by little, be indoctrinated further into the whirlpool of shit their parents stirred.

Sirius shook his head and buried a shaking hand into his pocket for his fag box. He took one out hastily and with trembling hands, lit it. After an inhale, his trembling hands stopped, his heart ceased beating at a furiously alarming speed and the instantaneous swelling of his throat stopped. He could breathe again. Funny how something that damaged the very vessels in his body that gave him oxygen were the only things that could get him to breathe properly. Funny how something designed to slowly kill him was, bit by bit, making it that much easier for him to live...

'Are you alright?'

'Don't you ever get jealous,' interrupted Sirius, 'of the scholarship students and how much freedom they get.'

'We get freedom,' replied James, 'I mean not in the same sense, but we get more financial freedom, we get to go to parties and do pretty much anything-'

'But I don't mean that,' said Sirius, shaking his head lightly. 'I mean they don't have those godforsaken expectations on their shoulders, they have freedom in every sense of their futures, as long as they can pay the fucking bills. But I don't care about bills, I'd trade anything to be allowed to do what I want and live how I feel is best for me to live.' Their eyes met, hazel on grey, before James looked away.

'Has anything happened recently?' Well, today he was un-spectacled, if that was a word. He wasn't wearing glasses but instead his most recent pair of contacts. The thing about James was he looked good in both glasses and contacts.

'What d'you mean?' murmured Sirius, tossing the remnants of his fag. They were on the way to Remus's, to meet his parents and have dinner. Sirius wasn't sure about having a home cooked meal; he wasn't used to that. To Mrs Kreacher cooking, their maid? No, he wasn't worried. She'd been trained to become a cook and she was a good one. He wasn't worried about dining regularly with his family in the most pristine, expensive restaurants, eating the food of Europe's most renowned chefs.

Peter was walking behind them; he was very quiet and withdrawn. Come to think of it, he'd been acting withdrawn since the beginning of the school year. Sirius remembered how … _wild_ Peter had been in their Eleventh Year. Wild in the sense that he was just as playful and mischievous as Sirius and James were and still, to an extent, are.

Life had matured them quickly though, when at the end of Year Eleven, Sirius had gotten into a physical fight with Lucius Malfoy, sending his elder distant relative to the hospital. As a result, Sirius and James had gone to the House of Black to heal the injuries Sirius had and were instead greeted with Orion Black and his infamous fury.

He'd beaten up Sirius right there, in front of James, who had been rushed out of the house moments after.

Well, back to the fight between Lucius and Sirius, as the battle between Sirius and his father was too important to gloss over in a paragraph. That story was going to be saved for another day.

Lucius Malfoy, from the infamous family of _Malfoys and ladies and lords_, was two years older and had been in his last year of Sixth Form before he started University. His family was close to Sirius's, he was betrothed to Narcissa Black, Sirius's darling cousin. The bitch.

But anyway, when Sirius first heard of Cissy and Lucius being betrothed to each other, he'd hated the elder boy even more. Lucius had always been mean to Sirius. And he couldn't stand the thought of now having a Malfoy as part of his immediate, rather relatively close family. He'd blown up, to put it so eloquently. Moreover, he had heard it from James. To think that his best friend knew more about who was joining the Black family than Sirius, a member of the _actual_ family.

Nonetheless, that hadn't annoyed Sirius as much as it did irritate him slightly. No, what annoyed him was when Lucius, outside where the Hogsmeade shops were around Hogwarts, dared to call him _cousin_ in front of everyone and had the audacity to laugh. Sirius was surprisingly not expelled for cracking one of Malfoy's shiny white pearl teeth and breaking some of his ribs. And when one of Malfoy's friends was going to interfere and was getting ready to hurl himself at Sirius, it had been Peter who had kicked the friend's crown jewels, thus leaving the older boy seriously maimed. Sirius remembered how brave Peter had been, considering it was Malfoy and his sorts of friends that had first bullied Peter when they came to Hogwarts.

Malfoy's mother and father had not pressed charges on Sirius because they knew that would be considered _treachery_ amongst the high societies of London.

'Are you alright Peter?' asked James. He too had noticed Peter's repellent, worrying attitude. His head snapped up and he smiled, nodding repeatedly.

'Yes, yes,' he bustled like a old, friendly woman. Then he laughed nervously. 'I'm fine guys. Just hungry. When are we going to eat?'

James pulled out his phone five minutes later, looking from the address that had been texted to him from Remus, then looked up at the house. 'We're here.' He said.

'How do you know?' asked Sirius, another stick of tobacco (unfortunately) between his fingers.

'He text me the address.' James replied nonchalantly, raising an eyebrow as he looked from the few words on his phone screen to the information the front of the house provided. They didn't need to be the oldest friends of Remus to know it was his house - it just had a similar essence to it that Remus himself had retained throughout the very short time they had known him.

'Go knock then,' James said, cocking his head to the honey coloured door. It wasn't a large house.

Sirius's eyes dropped to the phone, briefly wondering for a playful second, just how_ regularly_ James and Remus communicated with each other before he looked at the front door and nodded to his friend. Sirius stepped forward, preceding James, as he went to the door and pressed the tiny owl-shaped doorbell. The three boys waited silently for a minute before the door opened and they saw Remus, dressed casually but neatly in jeans and surprisingly, a Pink Floyd top that had scrawled underneath, in faded writing _Earls Court, 1994._

He was also barefoot, and had a bit of paint on his chin. His eyes widened when he saw them and then he looked down to the watch fastened tight around his wrist. 'You guys are like half an hour early. My mum hasn't finished cooking.' Nonetheless, whilst he said this, he opened the door wider for them and stepped back to let them in. They kicked their shoes off and thanked Remus when he took their coats.

Sirius desperately just wanted to sit somewhere warm and stuff his face with éclairs and baguettes and all other types of French food. 'Bonjour,' he said with a cheeky smile, winking at Remus. 'You've got such a cosy house.'

'Is that the way rich people say "_small_"?' Despite the authenticity of the question he was asking, there was a kind, patient smile on his face.

Sirius shook his head hurriedly. 'No, this is how I say that your house looks comfortable, warm and cosy.' He stopped talking however when the sound of footsteps on the hard wooden floor interrupted him.

He heard her fluid French muttering to her son before she, Mrs Lupin, came into view. 'Hello boys.' Her voice was like a melody, soft and light and vibrant.

'Bonjour!' Sirius said, grinning so widely he was sure his jaw would break. He stepped forward eagerly and held out a hand for a shake. 'Mon nom est Sirius Black, il est James et il est Peter.' He said to her as quickly and impressively as he could.

She laughed gently and exchanged a smile of glee with her son, thrilled at her son's happiness - on the outside.

Inside, she was shaking with nerves. _What if they hurt her baby?_ They seemed like the sort to not really care...

'It's very nice to meet you Sirius,' said Charlotte Lupin, extending her hand and taking his to shake it. 'But let's not speak French all day, his dad doesn't like it.' She said with a wink. She shook the hands of Peter and James before saying, 'Alright, I haven't finished making dinner, so d'you wanna-'

'They can stay in my room for a bit, mum,' he said to her. Then he cocked his head and said to them, 'Follow me.'

'I'll bring refreshments.' Mrs Lupin replied, a little too eagerly maybe. She hurried off, not noticing her son's eye-roll. He led his friends up the thin, curved staircase. He walked them through the skinny hallway, past the roomy bathroom, up some more stairs into the very large attic. There was a skylight, small and on the slanted part of the attic ceiling.

'This is my room,' said Remus, gesturing to the illuminated, bright attic. Sirius wasn't used to rooms being so … homely and cosy. He could see a box in the corner with books in it that still hadn't been unpacked for months now.

There was a double bed in one corner of the room and a large desk directly underneath the skylight with paints and pieces of card and paper balancing on it. Sirius noticed another cardboard box with stuffed toys (he barely managed to stifle a laugh) and blankets. Despite the room not being lived in for very long by Remus, it was radiant with his charisma and uniqueness. As for Sirius, even though he had lived in Grimmauld Place his whole life, his room still had a relatively new feel to it. It didn't bring the comfort bedrooms were supposed to bring to people; the Potter manor was more of a home to Sirius than where he lived with his family.

'I like your room.' James said as he too looked around in avid interest, much like Sirius and Peter.

'Do you paint here?' asked Sirius after a moment of silence, as he gravitated to the working desk and played with the pencils and paint tubes resting on it. He wished he had somewhere to paint, just for him, with light and air and bits of dust floating about.

He felt enlightened simply standing in his friend's bedroom. 'Yeah,' said Remus. 'There's a bedroom downstairs for me to have but the lighting isn't quite as perfect as it is here.' There were speakers installed into the walls, hovering over some CDs and records Remus had collected. But the collection wasn't very large, and as much as Remus wish he could, the places he bought vintage records and CDs from weren't cheap and therefore he couldn't afford to buy more than one or two things at a time.

Despite this, however, it still remained to be a dream bedroom. Wooden panels covered everything, beams came down from the ceiling, the door rippled with the same colour as the floor; honey and golden.

_This was the perfect room to think in, live in … feel in._

'What should I play?' Remus said, turning around and revealing just how muscular he was in the semi-tight Pink Floyd top. It was old with age and had definitely shrunk a little in the wash. But it was fashionable, despite its obvious age, and it emphasised how strong the half-French boy really was. In the gentle Autumn lighting of the attic, Remus's hair looked bronze and a little red. He was enigmatic.

'Sit down,' he said, gesturing to the bed and the thin sofa that too, furnished the room. Music started playing from the record, though Sirius couldn't recognise what song it was. It turned out to be the Beatles.

The music seemed to flow so smoothly, and with the vibrancy of the room and the calmness of all its inhabitants, Sirius felt like it was just a "Pull-out-the-Weed" type moment. The look that Remus gave him though clearly indicated it wasn't. Surprisingly though, he didn't seem to want to do anything about it.

'Yes,' said James as he caught sight of Sirius rolling the first joint of the supposed lot, and apparently there really was a lot. 'Don't the Beatles strike you guys as the type to have smoked a lot of weed when they were younger?'

Sirius barked a laugh and nodded rapidly. 'Yes, they do strike me as the sort.'

'Oh, and what's the sort?' challenged Remus as he sat on the floor and looked at them.

'You know,' replied the dark haired boy, 'I mean the rebellious sort. I mean, it's not even something bad. The best of people smoke weed. Musicians, philosophers, writers … artists...'

Remus rolled his eye, but there was a note of hesitation to it that Sirius picked up. 'If it wasn't that bad then it wouldn't be illegal.' He retorted smartly, his gold brown eyes, similar to the bronze of his hair, glistened with mischief and humour.

'Loads of amazing things are illegal. Like having to be eighteen and over to buy cigarettes, like not being allowed to have sex if you're under the age of sixteen, like-'

'We get what you mean, Sirius,' said James, then he broke into a grin. 'But he is right, Lupin. Activities and substances that are illegal somehow always seem more fun ... and exciting.' He winked.

Mrs Lupin brought up a tray of refreshments; glasses of lemonade and crisps and biscuits. She was very beautiful, Sirius thought, for an older woman. She was blonde, explaining the hints of said colour that was often found in Remus's multi-coloured mass of tendrils. But other than the similarity of their hair and its texture, Sirius couldn't find any other enormous similarities.

Mrs Lupin started talking and his eyes dropped to her lips; red, perky and full. He turned to look at Remus's mouth and almost broke into a definitely inappropriate smile - they also shared the same full, ruby lips.

'Thank you for the refreshments Mrs Lupin,' said Sirius, taking a glass of lemonade and sipping the chilled drink, his other hand sneakily shoving the joints and the weed under his jacket.

'It's alright mon amour,' she replied. Then she cocked a head at her son and started speaking in fluent French. Despite the A* Sirius had retained in his French GCSE, somehow he couldn't understand a word when Mrs Lupin spoke with such speed and fluidity. Moreover, he really hadn't been practising his French ever since dropping the subject.

Remus was answering back just as quickly with a small smile on his face before he did a shooing gesture and pointed to the door. His mother laughed and said before she left, 'Dinner will be ready in about ten minutes.'

Peter's stomach growled, the noise clouded by the sound of John Lennon singing in the background. 'What's for dinner?' he asked.

'Beef, roasted potatoes and steamed vegetables. She's also bought some of her favourite deserts, mostly éclairs and macaroons and-'

'Stop,' moaned James, clutching his stomach, 'I'm getting hungrier by the second. It all sounds so good.' Whilst he said this, he was eyeing the joints that Sirius was still rolling; he must have been on his fifth one now. When he set the fifth one down, then collected the bundle of just-rolled joints and placed them vertically inside his fag box, it was evident that he was done for now. He couldn't hide them from his friend's mother again, he'd feel even more sneaky and dishonest, and from the way Remus was shaking his head, his friend obviously thought so too.

The Beatles were still playing softly in the background but the songs were changing: Sirius recognised the current song_ If I Fell_. He wasn't sure how he knew the song, but the beauty of it calmed him - flowed through his veins and made him tremble with some sort of overwhelming feeling. Almost as if on cue, he got a text. He pulled out his phone and smiled when he saw a picture from Dorcas. She was posing in the picture, her taunting tongue out and her eyes twinkling fiercely.

He grinned and then sent her a text with one word: _Sexy._ 'Remus,' a voice cried from the distance, 'Dinner is ready.'

Sirius tried not to look around the house and think 'Tiny' and instead looked around with a careful eye, admiring the memories and declarations of love on the walls; pictures, albums littering the shelves, CDs and records. When they entered the dining room, there were mismatched plates and knives and forks set out. The bowls and large serving platters set out on the dining table in the centre of the room were giving off the warm scents of beef, potatoes, broccoli and carrots and so much more.

'This smells so good,' murmured James, looking at the food with hunger and eagerness. To him though, any type of food smelt good when he was hungry. A bowl of porridge first thing in the morning smelt heavenly; an apple in the dead of night, after being awoke by his rumbling stomach, tasted divine. He really wasn't a reliable judge.

'I should expect so,' a West England accented voice answered, gruff and curt and most careful. The three Londoner teenagers turned to face the man's voice they heard behind them. With an arm draped around Remus's mother, a man who looked like an older, stronger and wiser version of their friend stood before them: Mr Lupin.

'Good evening sir,' chanted Sirius and James, arms extended for a handshake in perfect synchronisation, their chorused voices still echoing slightly.

Was it the evening? The sun was setting, casting a glorious golden haze of light over the horizon. The clouds seemed more three dimensional then ever; they were white and grey and even a little purple. The skies were an azure blue, darkening the higher Sirius looked up. Indigo flashed before his eyes when he looked up as much as he physically could; but then right at the horizon, there were pirouettes of colours, baby pinks and alice blues and lime greens. It was gorgeous.

James reached out the furthest first during Sirius's artistic pause to admire the sky; as usual of course, and shook Mr John Lupin's hand. The shake was hard, vigorous and everything Remus's father seemed to be.

He was built well and seemed to be the sort to throw proper punches, the sort to not fear anything. But it quickly became evident during the introductions and the compliments to Mrs Lupin's cooking that Mr John Lupin's greatest fear was anything that would bring harm to his family.

He cared so much about them. Sirius could see it in every look, every quick kiss on his wife's cheek, every time he addressed his son. It broke his heart.

He'd never had his heart broken, moreover, he'd never felt so confused. Even at James's house, as much as his parents seemed to love him, they were rarely about because of work, money, appointments, lunches and dinners. Sirius was also never really confronted with the picture perfect image of their family - something he was eternally grateful for.

But now, all Sirius could see every time he looked up from his roasted potatoes and steamed vegetables was a smile, a touch, a grin and loving laughter. They were the perfect family. There was the father, fierce, ferocious and so thoroughly protective of his family that it was obvious he would do anything for them whether it was dying, stealing or killing.

The mother looked as well as acted like the epitome of love and care and wisdom. Each time she looked at her son or her husband, her face glowed that much brighter, her eyes revealed the affection she felt, her voice spoke tones of adoration and other feelings that Sirius couldn't quite understand.

And Remus was as stoic as usual. No, that was a lie. It was almost like he was on vacation; resting just for a little while and as accidental as it may have been, Sirius could tell that his laughs and smiles were real, that he was enjoying himself and that for the now and the next few hours, he'd be honest with himself and he'd be happy.

Sirius's phone went off again, and though his two old friends didn't bother looking up (the noise seemed constant for them now), Mr and Mrs Lupin, as well as their son, watched Sirius carefully. He was almost trembling with the weight of John's calculative eyes on his body and boring into his face. He almost flinched but passed the movement off as a stretch. Then he took out his phone when it continued ringing, looked directly at the very un-fatherly father and asked, 'Can I take this outside please?'

The grunt resembled a 'Yes,' and Sirius answered the phone whilst he stood up, leaving the room as quickly as he could, but not before they heard him murmur into the phone, _'Hey babe.'_

'Who's that then on the phone?'

'His girlfriend,' said James. 'She's been calling him all day. I think she's annoyed that he went to have dinner with your family when he's been putting off meeting her family.' Whilst James said this, he was fighting Peter, using her fork, for the last roast potato.

Only Remus saw the clogs in his father's brain work as he memorised the detail to use in the future. Fifteen more minutes went by before Sirius returned, looking more frazzled and unkempt than before. The table was neater; there were less serving platters, plates and bowls of food. The desserts were out now, bursting with colour and sweetness.

'What did Dorcas want?' asked James, fingering the chocolate on his millionth éclair and licking it from his long digits. Whilst it sounded attractive, you know, to be licking chocolate from slender, long fingers, James made it seem as attractive as watching two sloths have sex: not very attractive at all.

Sirius reached out and took an éclair, shovelling it into his mouth, grinning and swallowing noisily. 'Oh, you know, the usual stuff.' The conversation ended there - the silver eyed teenager's voice carried a hint of annoyance and … was that _regret?_ Either way, it was obvious he didn't wanna talk about it.

'So, anyway,' said Remus, steering the conversation to another topic, 'Sirius here takes all the same subjects as me. He's in all my classes too.'

'I can only really talk to him in Art though,' added Sirius, 'we sit together. Your son is very talented at art.'

'We know,' said Charlotte, a small smile on her face. She looked at her son proudly, and no one but Remus and God heard her murmur quietly to them in French, 'I love you.'

'This was delightful Mrs Lupin,' said Peter, taking another small macaroon, a pink one, and popping it into his mouth. 'You're the best cook I think I've ever had the pleasure of eating from.'

'The pleasure is all mine chéri.' Then, with a clap of her hands, she jumped up, bouncing blonde curls and all, and started tidying up. She left only one plate of macaroons and éclairs, cocking her head at her husband and ever so kindly saying to him, 'Help me with the dishes John.'

When they were alone in the kitchen, she gracefully placed the cutlery and dishes down and then turned to her husband, an expression of worry and fear etched plainly on her delicate features. 'We leave them alone John. We're not going to do anything to them. Remus is going to be seventeen soon, he needs to be able to grow and make friends all by himself. Even if I'm terrified for my baby.'

They could hear soft laughter amongst the sounds of guffaws and chuckles of the other three boys - it was Remus's laughter. And it sounded so foreign and alien to the two parents. It shouldn't have struck Charlotte the way it did, as she clutched at her blouse and listened harder than she ever had before.

He was rising from everything that had happened. The incident, the hospital, the alienation from everyone he had considered a friend, the bullying, the self-harming - goddammit, every _single_ thing. And here he was, still as beautiful and pure as he had ever been, only this time he had determination and experience on his side. He wouldn't let these new friends get to him the way his old ones had.

He was going to be strong.

A hand, much larger and rougher than her own, wrapped around Charlotte's. She looked up and gave her husband a watery smile. He kissed her cheek.

'I know.'


	7. Dawn

**A/N: **Here's the next chapter, shorter than the others mostly, but chapter eight will be a much longer chapter ... and more productive *wink*.

Like every chapter in this story, this one goes to Megan xxx

**Warnings: **non-graphic smut.

Enjoy and please review.

* * *

_Chapter Seven : Dawn_

* * *

_Tentative._

Like a baby's first steps. Careful, calculated, cautious were the steps of Remus Lupin as he slipped away from being that scared boy and instead morphed more and more into a fearsome man - one who didn't doubt his decisions, who dared to trust outside his family.

After the meeting with Remus's parents, as slowly and gradual as a blooming bud, he opened up to Sirius, James, Peter. Opened and … and bloomed and shone bright.

The thing about trust is that no object in defines it quite as well as a mirror: reflective and so brutally obvious, yet, at the same time, discrete, silent. But the main similarities between mirrors and trust as a personification of course, is that when either is broken, the cracks remain so vivid. When mirrors are shattered they can never fully be mended. When trust is broken, we can always see it.

Always.

Remus, despite knowing the thorough honesty of this statement, began to trust his two friends. Peter was still a liability; he didn't know the other boy as well, considering Peter was always running off to do 'errands' for his mother like picking groceries up from the store and getting her medicine from the pharmacy. And when he could come out, he'd never want to go to the movies or to a restaurant or to the park; he'd prefer to stay in somewhere, to not be spotted outside really. But of course James and Sirius never paid heed to him.

James sprinted, one hundred miles an hour, out of his pampered cocoon straight into the potential friendship Remus was offering. Sirius however hurried to Remus's side too but he was much too reserved, like he knew something was being held back from him and until he knew what, he wouldn't give himself up fully to the pending friendship he so eagerly wanted to accept wholeheartedly already.

Moreover, he did have Dorcas to think about. She was everything he dreamed of having in a girlfriend and so much more. She dropped the 'hey, come and say hi to my mum and dad' momentarily and instead strengthened the bond she and her boyfriend had carefully been building. But it wasn't until the month of December that she realised she was already falling for him.

* * *

Sirius and Dorcas lay lazily in bed one chilly morning - it was Saturday and of course they would be over each other's on a Saturday, namely Sirius's home but still. He loved waking up with her body pressed so intimately to his, her scent engulfing him like high tides on a beach. He woke, as usual, before her and began his gentle ministrations.

Sirius kissed the side of her face, from her temple to the corner of her mouth. He let his wandering hands roam and was glad when within minutes, she woke and was putty in his hands. 'If alarm clocks could wake me up like this every morning,' she murmured, 'I would not mind school.'

She grabbed polo mints off the bedside cabinet, popped two into her mouth and then put two into Sirius's. He loved how comfortable he could be with her, how she could read his mind and also wasn't a predicable, annoying teenage girl that thought that waking up in the morning after a night of drinking and partying would somehow miraculously give you splendid morning breath and it would be alright to make out and have a quickie.

With fresher breaths did they then delve into heated kisses and torturously slow caresses: ones that had Sirius _keening_ and Dorcas _moaning._

'God,' she moaned when he moved on top of her, joined their bodies until they were one. He buried his forehead in the nape of her neck, rocking on her, in her whilst she scorched around him and so thoroughly controlled him.

He hadn't felt this way about someone ever and it was beginning to _dawn_ on him just how much she meant. Sirius silenced her whimpers with a kiss, breathing into her mouth, 'Shhh, we don't want to wake up Reg do we?'

She shook her head and gasped again, her arms around his waist tightening and her legs coming up to wrap around his body so she could give her boyfriend every bit of her body she had to offer. After all, her body was practically his. He had claimed it first, and had dominated it so frequently. All but twice if she was correct.

His gorgeous silver eyes bore into her and she moaned again when he leaned back a little to speed up and therefore to what? To make her feel a whole lot more pleasure because she damn was. Fire inside her sparked and licked at all her nerve endings. Crazy climatic music started to crescendo in her ears. Her hair was now slicked at the nape of her neck with sweat and her cheeks were flushed pink.

'Sirius,' she repeated, like a chant, in breathy whispers. And then the coil of pleasure that had built up inside her, all that tension and fire was suddenly released and her pants and moans could have been a whole lot louder if Sirius's lips had not met hers.

Within seconds of descending bliss, her moans were layering up again and he was thrusting with the same wanton abandon and at the same time such care and tenderness that Dorcas felt she could sing and dance.

She opened her wedged shut eyes and looked into the glistening moon-like orbs of Sirius Black and breathed the eight letters that she was far too shy and ignorant to ever properly say - the words that she dreamed of saying, the words that seemed to be a rite of passage for any teenage girl.

He didn't hear her though because he was closing his eyes in that absolutely adorable pout of his and his lips were puckered into a kiss and together, they moaned for their last time, tension breaking in both of them, bleeding them dry of all the energy they had.

Sirius collapsed on her, and wrapped his arms tight around her curvy frame. He rained kisses over her naked chest and her neck and face whilst she huffed breathlessly.

'I love waking up next to you,' he breathed, pulling her onto his lap and draping the sheets around them. The fireplace was cackling with flames and the room was warm. Outside, they could see frost coating the trees and the leaves. The skies were grey and white with cold but when Sirius craned his neck, he could see gold erupting just out of his peripheral vision. It was a rather beautiful winter's day.

'Me too.' Dorcas said, leaning up to kiss him briefly and then relaxing in his arms to revel in the post-coital laziness settling in her bones. 'What are we doing today?'

'Nothing,' Sirius told her and when she moaned, he laughed, 'I mean, I can meet you later. I just have an assignment to do with Remus for Art. We've almost finished the term and Remus hasn't got a model to paint so I said he could paint me.'

'What are you painting for this project?' she asked.

Sirius didn't want to ruin it but he was actually planning on painting Dorcas. James said it was terribly romantic and though Sirius didn't want her to think that things were getting too serious or whatever, he did want to show her, prove to her that she did mean more to him than just sex.

As if on cue, Sirius's phone started to ring. He searched frantically for a few seconds under the pillows before pulling it from under the sheets and picking up.

_'Hello?'_

_'Sirius, hey, it's me. Erm … are we still meeting up?'_ the soft, calm voice of Remus said. He sounded so unsure of himself when he spoke, almost like he was still getting over the fact that he had friends - people that cared about him other than John and Charlotte.

_'Yeah,'_ murmured Sirius, meeting Dorcas's lips in small distracting pecks.

_'It's just … we said eleven o'clock and I've sort of been waiting for the past half hour.'_

Sirius's eyes flickered to the majestic clock hanging over the fireplace. It was indeed thirty two minutes passed eleven. He jerked up and started pulling his pants and underwear on, whilst at the same time holding the phone in one hand. _'I'll be there in fifteen minutes, you're still at the park, right?'_

He could almost imagine Remus nodding. _'I've frozen my bollocks off.'_

Sirius laughed low in his throat and threw a jumper over the shirt he had donned. Dorcas combed his hair whilst he fastened the laces of his leather loafers. _'I'm sorry. I'll see you in a sec.'_

_'Bye.'_

Dorcas had the sheets draped around her, the beautiful body Sirius had only just been admiring moments ago on full, proud display. She sure was something. 'When will I see you?'

'Not sure. But I'll call you and send the car to your house to pick you up.' His grey scarf from Mrs Potter on his birthday a year ago was wrapped around his jugular securely and his coat was buttoned up to the top, fitting his frame perfectly.

Sirius's armed snaked around his girlfriend's naked body and he kissed her deeply, his smooth leather-gloved hands sliding over her skin. They briefly kissed a last time before she disappeared into the bathroom to get changed whilst Sirius went down to call the car up for them.

With a quick goodbye when Dorcas got out of the car to her house, Sirius told the chauffeur to go to the nearest park; Regent's Park, in the centre of London.

Great London, wise London. Sirius had lived there all his life and couldn't imagine an existence outside the wild, mad city. Really, he just couldn't. He didn't think he'd ever leave London.

'Here you are sir,' a voice said from behind the window in the car, interrupting his thoughts.

Sirius reached out to shake his hand, thanked him and got out. It wasn't hard to find Remus at all - his hair stood out vividly in the frost and white of the vegetation around them. The gold and bronze of Remus's tresses contrasted magnificently with the park.

'Remus,' shouted Sirius, waving his arm and attracting the other teenager's attention. With the half French boy, there was also a large black case with what was obviously a canvas with him. There were also sketchbooks and a stand for the canvas as well as a smaller pouch which Sirius suspected had paints and pencils inside.

He was all packed.

'Sorry I'm late,' he said when he finished walking fast and stopped before his friend. 'Dorcas had stayed over.'

Remus tilted his head and appraised his new friend. Though his face suggested annoyance, it was blatantly obvious that he was fast becoming fond of Meadows, maybe even stemming past the physical attraction he felt towards her and falling deeper into the realm of lurveeeeeee.

_Love._

'S' alright,' murmured Remus as he fidgeted in his large satchel. 'Did she stay over after that party?'

Sirius nodded. 'I wish you came to it.'

'I had work to do,' the other replied.

'So?' challenged Sirius, sitting beside the boy and meeting his golden brown eyes. 'Where d'you want me?' He said, changing the subject swiftly.

'One sec,' whispered Remus, his voice barely even there. He stood up and got a blank sheet of thick paper from his bag before opening his container of pencils and paints. Soon, Sirius sat on one side of the bench and Remus sat on the other, leaning on a sketchbook in his lap with a HB Pencil clenched between his fingers.

'Lean back a bit,' the light-haired boy breathed. He reached over and mused Sirius's impeccable, soft hair and told him to 'Relax'. He leaned forward to the touch and pouted when Remus removed his hand and laughed at his expression.

It felt like time was crawling on. First the proportions were measured and drawn out on the thick paper - Sirius's perfect proportions, his nose in comparison to his cheekbones, his jaw and his chin, his shoulders and neck; all slender and carefully sculpted.

Sirius's lips were only slightly puckered in their natural, full pout. His cheeks were flushed pink and his eyes were dark.

'How much longer do I have to stay like this?'

'We can come back in an hour if you want? Take a bit of a break. I've got your face and chest measured out and sketched a bit too.'

Sirius jumped up and stretched, contorting his body into weird shapes and eliciting cracks. He yawned and then turned his grin to Remus. 'Great. Alright, come, let's get something to eat. Wanna go Pizza Express? Oh, actually, I'm feeling some _Nando's_ right now. Wanna get Nando's?'

Remus shrugged. 'I don't mind.'

They did get Nando's in the end and waited in line for a table until of course one of the waitresses recognised Sirius and hurried forward to him. 'I am so sorry sir for keeping you waiting. Table for two is this way.'

Sirius really didn't want to sit on a two seater table with Remus - not that he didn't enjoy his friend's company, but rather, he didn't want assumptions to be made. He didn't want people thinking he was going on a date with Remus, not that Remus wasn't lovely or handsome or kind - he really really was.

Sirius looked across to him. He didn't know why people thought he was one of the best looking guys in Hogwarts. Was it because his mother was a model and he was descended from aristocracy?

Remus was rather good looking too, in a gentle, soft way. _Soft?_ Sirius shook his head and appraised the boy opposite him, who was staring intently down at the menu. He hadn't noticed before how … pretty Remus was. In a strictly friendly way of course.

'Let's get a whole chicken to share, and chips and...' Sirius said and Remus nodded slowly.

The restaurant was packed and a little too noisy; it was hot inside, a huge contrast to the freezing conditions of the frosty air outside.

'Remus,' said Sirius quietly, somehow still managing to be heard over all the chatter around them. 'If you don't mind my asking … why did you move to London? I mean … it's got to be really different to Devon...'

Remus stared intently at the menu and kept his head down. After what felt like a lifetime, he looked up at Sirius. 'It is, you know … really different. I still find it hard to wrap my head around what living in the capital city is like. It's so much busier and dirtier and harsher than what I'm used to.'

The dark haired boy hesitated before finally saying, 'The scars...' without realising, he was touching the first scar on Remus's wrist peeping out of his shirt. It was clean, precise and everything Sirius associated with his friend. The other boy flinched and moved his hand away, staring intently at his line running through his wrist. 'I've seen the scars on your arms.'

His question lay in the air, there if Remus wanted to answer it but easily ignorable if he decided it was a little _too_ personal.

Suddenly, the restaurant they were in seemed all too quiet. A waiter walked past them and placed a cup before each of them, smiling and leaving quickly. Neither of them paid attention though. Sirius was too busy watching the scars that Remus was revealing to him as he inched the sleeve of his shirt up bit by bit.

'I used to hurt myself.' His voice was hoarse and dead. His full perfect lips were trembling and his cheeks were tinted pink.

Sirius wanted to ask, scream the question _WHY?_ but he didn't because it wasn't what Remus needed right then. He just needed someone to listen - so Sirius listened.

'It was … after the accident … people didn't want to speak to me anymore or know me. They teased me. Laughed at me.' His eyes flickered up to meet Sirius's and he almost jumped out of his seat; his friend's usually chocolate eyes were now a molten lava colour. They were scorching and so vivid, Sirius could feel them piercing through every part of his body, like bullets.

'People sometimes ask how could such a gruesome thing help? They don't understand just how much it helped me.' His eyes fluttered shut. 'Like all the pain was released in that one cut, and, at the same time, like the pain from h-hurting myself distracted me from...' He bit his lip and stopped talking.

'I had a trip to the hospital when I … really hurt myself. My parents thought that maybe Devon wasn't a good place for me to heal after everything that had happened. We came here.'

Their food arrived whilst Sirius tried to register what was told to him. He was too scared to ask what the accident had been. He didn't want to appear too nosy. So he nodded, kept his mouth shut and made space for their food.

'What drink do you want?'

'Do you get served?'

Sirius smiled tightly. 'Reckon I could.'

_xo_

It is important that you all remember this is not a love story. This story will not be told from an overly romantic perspective; Sirius and Remus didn't fall in love because of gentle caresses and whispered declarations of love. They fell in love because they weren't ever supposed to fall in love.

They're opposites - different ends of the world, different shades of grey and black and white. Remus began to feel weird around Sirius after their first "date". He started to trust his friend a lot more. But then again he didn't tell Sirius about Greyback. Not until afterwards.

And it wasn't until Sirius's birthday party slash New Year's party that anything happened between the two. It was a wild party.

_xo_

Remus was drunk, stupidly drunk. His mama would be annoyed and his father would laugh. It was almost twelve. Almost a new year.

Remus had been waiting so desperately for a new year to come. _Fresh starts._ A new year. And it was almost here. Maybe the Greyback thing wouldn't follow him across time anymore. A new year signified the end of mistakes, the turning of a fresh leaf, slates being wiped clean.

He was sat outside Sirius's house on the marble steps. It was such a big house. Too fucking big. But maybe that was the appeal of it, being there was so much to be discovered and plotted.

He tossed his fag and got out another long stick of tobacco. Someone sat beside him and Remus looked up at his best friend. That was what they were. _Best friends!_

Sirius was drunk. So drunk and god, he was being stupidly flirty and annoying now. He hugged Remus tightly and sang, 'Happy b-birthday to meeeee! I'm seventeen Remy! Can you believe … that?' he slurred, wiping a liquid substance from his lip.

'Did you like … my present?' he asked between puffs of smoke.

Sirius nodded quickly. Then he looked around and mock-whispered, 'Don't t-tell anyone ... but it was my favourite prezzie.'

'More than Meadows' present?'

Sirius's eyes were glazed over. He kept closing them. Remus heard him whisper, 'More than anyone.'

Remus had painted a large picture of Sirius and given it to him for his birthday on the twenty fourth of December. There had been a small dinner between the four best friends that night and then Sirius had declared that instead of having a birthday party and then a New Year's one, he'd combine them.

And the result was of course two hundred people turning up to his enormous house and more trying to get in. Also, one of the bathroom windows was broken, as was Sirius's headboard and he was pretty sure Reg's room was trashed too.

'Aren't you havin' fun?' slurred Sirius. His lips were suddenly shaking and his eyes were watering.

'Oh, I am!' cried Remus. 'I am! I am! Just hot inside.' He explained.

Sirius draped himself across his friend's lap and nodded. 'I agree.'

Remus had disentangled himself from the party because it was far too warm, noisy and very crazy inside. People were stripping and smoking all sorts of substances in the manor. Some were engaging in amorous activities within the very public confines of the bathrooms and bedrooms.

But Remus really had been enjoying himself. He just wasn't in the mood to watch people his age act like they were a lot older but do things that only stupid teenagers would do. And he was most certainly not in the mood to watch Sirius snog his girlfriend Dorcas.

She seemed to be everywhere these days.

Remus couldn't quite work out why it was annoying him though. He didn't complain when he saw James kissing other girls, or when the countless couples around them kissed. And he was definitely not annoyed when he watched two girls kissing - regardless of if he was gay, any man would find two teenage girls kissing a huge turn on.

'But you're not being any fun!' cried Sirius, feeling a first class pout form on his face. Then he looked up at Remus and laughed. 'You look funny upside down.'

'Thanks,' replied the half-Frenchman dryly.

'Not in a … bad way,' murmured Sirius, rubbing his face hard with his hand.

Remus could feel Sirius pressed against him; the barely existent ache in his legs as they held most of Sirius's weight, the way he could still feel the hard contours of his friend's body despite the layers they were (or in Sirius's case, weren't) wearing. How Sirius's warm breath managed to reach him and fan over his face.

He shook his head.

He was _wayyyyy_ too drunk.

'You know,' slurred the light-haired one, 'you're the total opposite to Dorcas. Why d'ya go out with her?'

Sirius shrugged. 'She's the only girl I can put up with for a long period of time.' He said ever so slowly, like each word cost him great effort. 'Besides,' he continued, 'she's in love with me.'

'How ... do you know?'

'Isn't everyone in love with me?' challenged Sirius, quirking his eyebrows and looking ridiculously drunk as he did so. He leant up so his face was level with Remus. They stared at each other for a while, smiles on their faces. Remus felt a hand nudging his and he looked down at Sirius's long pale fingers, playing with his.

'Sirius,' cried a voice, horribly high and female. They were snapped out of their trance and quickly looked up. A flash of dark long hair blurred across Remus's eyes as he watched Sirius jump up and grab his girlfriend by her arms.

'Hey baby,' he said.

'It's _time!_' she cried as loud as she could, throwing her arms over her boyfriend's neck and chanting with him.

TEN, NINE, EIGHT, SEVEN...

'Happy New Year,' Remus heard her breathe. He gritted his teeth and listened to their exchange.

FOUR, THREE, TWO...

'Happy New Year,' Sirius replied before he ducked his head down and kissed his girlfriend, holding her, caressing her.

_Isn't everyone in love with me?_

ONE...

Remus frowned. He bit his lip and thought hard for a moment. Then he looked up at Sirius, at the beauty of his face, at the slender frame and the straight posture and the high cheekbones. He watched as his full lips claimed the slightly thinner ones of Dorcas, as their tongues snuck out to stroke one another's and left nothing to imagination.

Slowly, he stood up and started to walk. Walk to whatever room had the most alcohol and thus walk _away _from what was dawning on him, what he was, second by second of the new year, coming to realise. That Sirius Black really was as pretty as people made him out to be.

* * *

**A/N: **I hope you enjoyed this. Now, click the review button/leave a few lines of what you think of this story or chapter. Thank you xxx


	8. Self-Discovery

**Disclaimer; **I do not own Harry Potter, just the plot and the OCs.

**A/N: **Thanks to _InvisibleMoony _for pushing me to post this chapter asap xxxx

As usual, this chapter is dedicated to _hufflepuffloveforever.x _- kisses for you :*

* * *

_Chapter Eight : Self-Discovery_

* * *

Thoughts can be venomous, dangerous, gorgeous, comforting...

They can be many things and nothing at all in the sense that our thoughts shape our actions and decisions: if we are scared than our actions are more likely to be frantic and nervous. And when our decisions are kind and loving, it's because we think about the person we love whilst doing such things.

From here on out, the story that will be told, though it might seem like a love story and at times will heavily present one, keep in mind that there is always disaster lurking. The first disastrous thought morphed into a disastrous action.

_xo_

A tousled mop of bronze hair emerged from beneath the covers as the boy, seeming so small in his bed, bellowed in French to his mama and told her that he was getting up. But he wasn't. He was so tired, a little too tired. It was a chilly Saturday and with Saturday came a whole day of nothing.

No actually, that was a lie, Remus thought. Because he was often invited to go out with the others on Saturdays. And sure enough, with a quick glance to his phone, Remus saw that there was a text from Sirius Black inviting him to meet them at noon to play football.

**Sirius: Meet us at noon, we're playing football with Benjy, Frank and two other boys you've yet to be introduced to. I'll call you in an hour so you better be awake Remus!**

Remus sighed and looked down at the text information: and sure enough, it had been sent twenty five minutes ago. He ran a hand over his sleep-swollen face and looked up at the sloped ceiling of the attic.

He could imagine Sirius, typing the text frantically yet still ensuring that the grammar was perfect, the spelling was good, but at the same time taking extra-precautions to make sure it didn't seem too posh.

_Sirius..._

He couldn't describe what it was about the boy: maybe because he was insanely attractive, he was intelligent and witty and yet at the same time, fun and childish. Remus shivered. His mother called for him again and with a resigned murmur, he threw back the sheets and started to dress, trying desperately to not think of Sirius Black.

Anyone, straight or gay, would be attracted to the other teenager.

He threw on a top and looked in the mirror; he had started going gym more and more during his free time, except painting, because he did enough of it in school and was, as of late, losing his inspiration. This unfortunately meant that he needed to find something that was challenging and that he hadn't had the chance to paint before he had to submit some art for coursework.

On the plus side, going gym more meant that Remus looked a little taller and better built: still lithe and fluid but even stronger too now.

Remus hurried out to the bathroom and quickly freshened up; brushed his teeth, showered, put on lotion. He went downstairs, hearing his mother on the phone and speaking in rapid French, laughing gently and murmuring back with tones of love and care.

'Who's she speaking to?' Remus asked vaguely to no one in particular.

'Your great aunt.' John Lupin replied as he thumbed through the newspaper. He was at the job section, Remus realised with a lurch.

'You looking for another job dad?' he asked in a quiet, level voice.

His father looked up and shut the newspaper quickly, putting it down and smiling widely. 'No son.' He shook his head.

'Well, I'm meeting my friends so I'll come back later.'

'Need your mum to pick you up from Black or Potter's house?' John asked, a familiar expression of protectiveness and caution flickering over his face when he said their names. He was a careful man when it came to his family especially.

Remus shook his head. 'No, it's fine. I'll get a lift if I do go to one of their houses.' Remus explained. He took a slice of toast from the table, a glass of juice his mother had very kindly set out for him, and walked over to kiss her cheek before he hurried back to his room.

His phone, as if on cue, started ringing. A glance to the screen informed him that it was James Potter phoning him: he picked up. _'Hello?'_

_'Hey, we'll give you a lift. We'll be there in five minutes.'_

They were exactly five minutes, astonishing really. A smooth black car rolled up in front of Remus's house; he could hear James and Sirius shouting at him to hurry up already and Peter waving excitedly from the window. Changing quickly into suitable clothing, and with a last goodbye to his parents, Remus was in the flawless car speeding off down the road.

'Got a fag Rem?' asked Sirius, accepting one gratefully and lighting up. He exhaled a puff of smoke. 'You won't believe what's happened.'

'What?'

'Mother and father have left on a spontaneous holiday for a week. I was inviting you guys to stay over whilst they're gone. Regulus will no doubt be off with his girlfriend for the seven days our parents aren't here and I'll have no one to keep me company.'

James raised an eyebrow. 'I practically live at yours. I'll stay over.'

'I'll ask my parents,' said Remus.

'I'm just so happy. A week without the constant nagging from my mother, without my father's harsh orders. Just me, Dorcas I hope, and you guys, over at mine.'

Remus smiled at his friend and looked out of the window. Time was speeding by a little too fast for his liking. Before he knew it, he was out of the car and playing football with people he hardly knew.

The two boys he had yet to be introduced to were in the year above and were twins: Fabian Prewett and his younger brother (by four minutes) Gideon. They moved together like it was choreographed and Remus wandered whether twins really could read one another's minds.

Frank was there, beaming as usual and Benjy, who seemed to be in a bit of a foul mood, was thundering across the grass.

It was quickly learned that Remus was very fast, a little too fast even. He was good at passing too but hadn't taken any shots yet. James was the star though: he was fast, agile and had great accuracy when it came to shooting. Soon, the four friends were winning by three goals against Benjy, Frank and the twins.

That was when it happened.

Sirius must have tripped and that never happened because he was Sirius; he was quick, graceful, strong and had amazing reflexes. But he did trip. He tripped right over Benjy's foot and knocked the both of them to the floor. He lay on top of the other man, completely paralysed.

There was silence, James standing before them, like he wanted to reach out and stop it. But whereas Frank and the twins were laughing softly, James and Remus, for some unknown reason on the latter's behalf, stood there frozen.

'You faggot,' Benjy said, humour but clear annoyance in his voice. He threw Sirius off him and stood up, leaving the other man on the floor, who slowly made his way up. Benjy started talking and that was really where all the trouble started. 'If you wanted to fuck me-'

That was when Sirius's fist, like a bat, came out of no where and swung across the metre gap between the two teenagers, colliding with the side of Benjy's face. The other man staggered and fell in surprise, looking up at Sirius in horror and though he would never admit it, fear.

Sirius lunged for him again, screaming whilst he leapt.

'-EVER CALL ME A FAGGOT AGAIN, YOU ARSEHOLE!' He shouted, barely being restrained by the arms of his best friend.

Luckily he didn't even near Benjy, who sat on the ground and held his sleeve to his nose. _Was it a Ralph Lauren polo shirt he was using?_

'What on earth is wrong with you Black?' spat Benjy. 'I was only joking.'

Remus turned, in shock, to face Sirius who stood with his back to the rest of them, quivering with anger. James was slapping his shoulder every few seconds and seemed to be talking to the other man.

Eventually, Sirius turned, grabbed his backpack off the floor and walked out of the park without another word.

'What the hell is wrong with that guy?' hissed Benjy, wiping his nose a last time with his sleeve before getting up. He looked for a while at the direction Sirius had stormed off to whilst Gideon talked.

'Maybe he really _is_ a closet fag-'

'Shut up,' James whispered threateningly. 'That's not a funny thing to say.' Then without another word, he cocked his head at his two close friends, picked up Sirius's wallet which must have fallen out of his pocket sometime during the collision, and lead the way to where there friend surely was waiting.

Sirius was in fact sitting on the bench just outside the park, smoking and on the phone. Snippets of his conversation reached them. Vile as it was, Remus couldn't help but listen as intently as possible.

_'-Want you too...'_ then he cut off with a husky, half-hearted laugh. _'I like when you do that. Any chance of it happening later today? Miss you … alright, see you at mine. Bye.'_

'That Dorc?' asked James, sitting beside his friend and handing him the filled wallet.

'Yeah, she's coming to mine in an hour or so. Want to come home with me until she arrives? You're staying over James, right?'

His friend nodded then mouthed a sentence Sirius seemed to understand but the other two friends did not.

'I know it was stupid,' the other murmured with gritted teeth. 'What's done is done James.' There was quiet whilst they waited patiently for the limousine to come. Jerome was quick, as usual, and didn't ask questions about their downtrodden expressions when less than an hour ago, he had dropped off four excited, buzzed teenagers.

School hadn't started yet - Dumbledore giving them three more days of mercy. That being said, it was still freezing outside. The snow, though gone, had set in some areas, leaving a chilling cold in its place.

The thing Remus had come to love most about Sirius's home had to be the warmth always radiating from it; the fireplaces were lit, the manor was clean and comfortable.

'I can just tell your parents aren't here from stepping inside.' James said. 'It's warmer and brighter. Does that sound stupid?'

Sirius cracked his first real smile. 'I feel the same way. Like I can fucking breathe. Let's go up to my room.'

Sirius's room really was heaven. It had everything, _everything._ A mini fridge sat in the corner atop a cabinet with beer and other sorts of alcoholic beverages. There was a large stereo that had a bass that thrummed. Instruments too, sat in the corner. A violin in its case, a naked guitar and a hastily packed away keyboard that was steadily collecting dust.

The four poster bed, much larger than a king sized bed, had curtains that were easily removable on either side, no doubt used to cover whatever Sirius and Dorcas did beneath those sheets.

'Want a beer?' the handsome teenager asked his friends, taking out a four pack and setting it in the middle of the bed. There was silence whilst they cracked open their cans and sipped eagerly from their bottles. The flat screen TV hung up on the wall, though switched on, was playing music quietly - the Arctic Monkeys if Remus was correct.

'What was all that about earlier?' asked the Frenchman carefully, eyes flicking from each of them cautiously; assessing their reactions, the set of their mouths, the desperation in their eyes.

His eyes went from Peter, who genuinely looked as though he didn't understand anything that was going on; to James who had his mouth clenched shut and his eyes fixed resolutely on the flat screen television...

Before resting on Sirius.

_Sirius Black._

Surprisingly, he wasn't avoiding Remus's eyes the way the others were. Instead, he stared at the other teenager. Stared with every fibre of his body, eyes burning into the bronze orbs that patiently stared back. Then he broke eye contact and said softly, 'Come and get some snacks with me from the kitchen Remus.'

He stood back, letting the guest precede him, before he closed the door behind him and quietly led Remus into an empty room opposite them. It must have been Regulus's bedroom, Remus decided. Gently closing the door and keeping his back to Remus, Sirius explained quietly, 'Peter doesn't know and I'd like to keep it that way for a while. Just whilst I determine things … whilst I understand whether this- … feeling I feel is permanent or not.'

His shoulders were hunched and Sirius really did seem quite too scared when he at last turned to face Remus. 'You're the only person other than James that I've told. Well, I haven't told you yet but you know...'

Sirius pushed Remus not too gently to sit on the bed and then joined him, leaving at least a metre between them - for the other man to flee if he wanted, scoot closer if he decided it wasn't nearly grave enough to rebuff their friendship.

Opening his mouth slowly, Sirius said, 'I didn't mean to hit Benjy. I just don't like when people call me a faggot.'

'Why?' whispered Remus and despite all the instincts within him that screamed for him to not do what he was going to do, he shifted a little closer. 'I mean, no one would like to be called gay if they're not but really, it's hardly something to punch someone over.'

Sirius shook his head. 'That's the thing … I mean to say that- … don't get me wrong, I love girls, love them a lot but … I'm not as straight as people think Remus.' He turned to look at his friend; urgently, like he was genuinely scared that Remus would not understand him. 'But you have to understand that, whatever I'm feeling, I do like girls. I really do. Dorcas, she's amazing. I wouldn't do this to her if I didn't fancy her a lot already. I just can't help but ...but fancy guys a little.'

It was a lot to take in.

Sirius, notorious in Hogwarts for being the biggest player around, batting for both teams? Batting for the gorgeous female team and the rugged male team too? Surely not! _Perish the thought!_ Remus wanted to cry.

'It's just … I'm not sure Remus. I mean, I can't be even _a little_ bit bisexual, let alone gay. What if I fall in love with a man? What if I want to grow up with a man, if women aren't enough for me … I'm frightened.'

His large silver eyes, brighter than usual, glimmered when they met the golden orbs of Remus.

'You know,' the other teenager began, resting a hand on his friend's shaking knee and looking ahead at the roaring fireplace. 'When I was younger, I used to hate the mark just above my lip. I used to absolutely loathe it. Whenever I remembered, I'd rub at it. I'd rub and rub, thinking that would be enough to get it off, to make it disappear forever.'

Sirius's silver eyes fluttered to Remus's lips and he could see it: the mark, or rather, the beauty spot: a dark brown, like a crumb of cake, permanently fixated to the outline of the full, round lip.

'I don't understand...'

'Ignoring it won't make it go away.' Remus said softly.

'But I can't tell people-' Sirius began. He was interrupted by the patient shake of Remus's head and instead stared at his friend. Stared and wondered...

Softly, Remus whispered, 'You don't need to come out and tell people that you like guys too. You just need to .. I don't know, acknowledge the fact that you're attracted to guys. If you don't wanna tell people, that's fine. And if you don't tell Dorcas well I guess that's fine too. But don't hide it from yourself.'

_Don't hide it from yourself._

_Don't..._

When Sirius and Remus re-joined their other two friends, cradling sandwiches and other quick snacks left in the fridge for them, James was already making himself at home. He had some of Sirius's pyjama bottoms on, was wearing a jumper a little too big for his narrow frame and was lounging on the bed whilst Peter sat patiently on the comfortable cushioned bench lining the opposite wall.

'I was wondering,' began James, 'about what we would do when school starts. I mean, we have exams the first few weeks back and I can't get anything below a B Sirius, you know that.'

'Below a B? My dad is expecting straight As James. And you know how he gets about grades.' His smile, contrasting with what he said, looked honest and real.

But appearances can be deceiving, _right?_

'Alright, move up,' Sirius said as he dumped the food on the foot of the bed and leapt onto it, narrowly avoiding James's head.

'Move up? This bloody bed is enormous. I don't need to.' James hissed. Then he cocked his head at Remus. 'Wanna make this a ménage à trois?'

Sirius elbowed him. 'There's only one person that gets to-'

'Hello,' Dorcas said from the doorway. 'I'm about to come in? You're all decent right? Haven't been sucking each other off or-'

'Dorcas,' called Sirius, 'as if I would ever let anyone else suck me off-'

'Oi,' she laughed as she stuck her head past the door before he body quickly followed. Despite the biting cold outside, she was dressed in a short grey dress and black tights. She kicked off her expensive Ugg boots and dropped the navy coat she had been carrying before she pulled open Sirius's mini fridge and took out some beer.

'I wouldn't have come if you told me you were having a day with the guys.' She said kindly, smiling at them all and even sending a kiss to James, who caught it and pretended to rub it all over his body. Her laugh was gorgeous, much like the rest of her.

She still managed to look slightly tanned despite the summer having been months ago and her dark hair was draped around her in a long elegant plait. She wore red lipstick and eyeliner; bringing out those stunning orbs behind the long fringes of her lashes. She was quite beautiful, Remus thought.

'Hello.' Sirius said to her, crawling off the bed and grunting when James and Remus started kicking him. He rolled on Remus's foot, ignored his friend's cry of pain, and poked James hard in the gut before he jumped away from them and stuck his tongue out. 'Trying to keep me from my woman.'

'Hey babe,' he continued when he reached her, pulling her to him forcibly and drawing her into a messy, loud, much too erotic display of kissing. His tongue kept sneaking out, pulling her lips into his mouth; pulling her tongue into a seductive duel. Then they broke apart, grinned at each other, and started the dance between their lips once more.

Their bodies were entwined as Sirius held Dorcas with a certain gentleness he never usually showed. When at last they drew apart for the last time, he pulled her onto the bed, leaving some space between them and James. Then he cocked his head at Remus and said, 'There's plenty room for all four of us.' And there was. Plenty room that is.

James practically threw himself at the foot of the bed when Peter flicked the channel to Sky Sports, leaving a few feet for Remus to cuddle up on the other side of Sirius.

The picture they painted, the three teenagers with their bodies propped up by the headboard that is, will always be what James and Peter think of whenever identifying the precarious love triangle Remus, Sirius and Dorcas shared.

The grey eyed teen in the middle, eyes glued ahead whilst he stared at Remus to the right of him; a calculating expression on his face and something unidentifiable lurking behind his stormy eyes. Dorcas lay behind Sirius, spooning him, kissing his hair, stroking his arm and his thigh. Holding onto the hope that maybe he would love her as much as she loved him too.

Because despite being a young and in many ways, an ignorant woman, four months with her boyfriend was enough to alert her that she was indeed falling further into the cavern of love; into the blinding mist and the suffocating clouds of that godforsaken thing called love.

'Is everything okay?' Sirius asked her, turning over so they were facing one another now. His lips were inches from hers, their hot breathes colliding, fanning over their faces, arousing them ever so slightly.

Dorcas smiled that beautiful smile of hers: sharp dark eyes and slightly pouted lips. She wiped some of her lipstick that had transferred from her lips to her boyfriend's and nodded. 'Your lips are red now.'

He smiled and ducked down to kiss her some more. 'And your lipstick is all smudged.' He replied, holding her body firmly and chuckling. 'Look like some common sort of whore.'

She rolled her eyes, pinched him hard enough to leave a pink mark on his pale skin, but settled into the hug, dodging the kisses he tried to bestow upon her and instead letting the sound of James's annoyance at the television and Peter's questions in regards to the delicate sport of football wash over her.

The only one she didn't hear make a sound?

Remus Lupin of course. Because brewing within his intelligent mind, amidst the doubts and speculations of Sirius, were questions: most about whether there was ever even a chance of something happening between them.

Sirius wasn't as straight as he made out to be. He was just as confused and scared as the other man was; burnt with the fear of letting who he truly was out. Today was proof of that!

Straightening his brown jumper and fixing the collar of his light green shirt beneath, Remus ran a hand through his darkened hair, shot one last glance at Sirius before turning his head to watch the television.

He would be there for his friend; he would wait patiently, kindly, keep his mouth shut and stay out of the business of others. He most certainly would not make a move on Sirius. He wasn't brave enough, let alone cruel enough to do such a thing.

And perhaps most importantly, he just wasn't ready to lose the best friend he'd had in a while. So with a smile on his face, a slow and calculative one that bit by bit strengthened, the naturally blond-brown haired teenager pulled out his mobile, text his mum that he was fine and picked up his bottle of beer.

It tasted stale, not all that nice and yet at the same time... wonderful.

Yes … _positively __wonderful._

_xo_

Bottling up your emotions, just like bottling anything dangerous up, can create disaster. Sirius created disaster within Remus - pain, contempt, regret...

He made the Frenchman feel bad for liking him when he was so happy with Dorcas. Yet, lurking in the dark pit of his mind, somewhere hidden, lay his confusion and his wonder. What would it be like with a guy? Would he enjoy it more? Should he enjoy it more? Did that make him bisexual … or worse … gay...

God …

How he hoped he wasn't gay-

_xo_

Pomfrey was a kind woman. She certainly knew her stuff; was smarter than most and provided good conversation. But she was the only person in Remus's city like that knew about what he had encountered in Devon. And that made him feel contempt and bitterness towards her.

He wanted to bury Greyback-

How could he do that when his weekly meetings with Pomfrey stemmed from what had happened with Greyback.

Remus gagged, the name bitter on his tongue. His hand, like it so usually did when he thought of the man, slipped beneath his turtleneck jumper, under his linen shirt and crept a little further till he could trace the scar that had been carved by the silver knife.

Pomfrey was Remus's appointed therapist. At least she was better than the one from Devon. It had been an old man, cranky and usually sceptical. Moreover, he spoke to Remus like he was just a little boy who didn't quite comprehend the severity of what had happened to him.

'And how about yesterday? Did you feel the same as today?' Her voice was gentle, like she was speaking to a frightened deer: not wanting to startle, not wanting to scare. She just wanted to comfort. She could barely begin to understand how Remus had dealt with all he had.

'You know,' he said quietly, 'I haven't felt much happier really. I'm just content with the way things are I guess-' he cut himself off as he thought of what next to say, wanting to conceal his inner feelings and yet knowing that she would notice. 'I found out something the other day that had remained quite … secret to me until recently.'

The wonderful thing about Pomfrey was that she didn't pry; she asked and let the truth come out of Remus's mouth the way he wanted it. She was just a helpful ear, giving half an hour a week to talk to him. Make sure he wasn't as sad and lonely as he had been.

Maybe to also make sure that she could prevent anything like what had happened earlier this year from unfolding once more. Her eyes were drawn to the deep gashes in Remus's forearms. He himself was aware of where her eyes had settled; but he let her look. He wasn't sure why...

'I'm glad I've discovered it, but at the same time, I'm not.' His voice broke. 'I can't help but hope now. This … person who told me the truth … they're getting my hopes up. I'm not completely even sure what I feel yet. Just that I feel something.'

'And telling the person is completely out of the question?' she asked softly.

He nodded, letting his blond-brown hair fall into his eyes and shield his face. 'On another note,' he began, 'exams are starting next half term. I'll have more to do and less time to waste thinking about trivial little things.'

'If it's taking up most of your time, then it's not trivial Remus. That's how emotions begin to bottle up. By ignoring them.'

'And what do you suggest I do?' he said, fixing Pomfrey with a hard look as he tilted his head and appraised her the same way she was appraising him.

'Start off by being honest to yourself and accepting what you're feeling darling.'

Remus sighed. It was a lot harder than it seemed.

Nodding, the young boy murmured, 'Alright,' just to get her to leave him alone now. He was tired and was missing lunch. His stomach protested and let out a low groan.

Giggling, Poppy nodded and stood up, stashing her notepad away quickly before turning back to him and saying, 'Off you go then dear. There's still twenty five minutes of lunch. I'll see you next week, same time.'

Remus nodded and without another word, took his leather bag from the ground, swung his coat over his shoulders and left as quickly as he came. It wasn't hard to find his friends. They were sitting on the table opposite the large windows of the Great Hall.

James was dressed smartly in a dark jumper, some dark jeans and polished leather shoes which were probably Armani or something. Peter himself looked plump but satisfied (he was eating his favourite chicken and bacon sandwich after all) in his shirt and light trousers whilst Sirius was still wearing his gorgeous trench coat and grey scarf - the one that contrasted brilliantly with his eyes.

His hair was swept back and managed to stay that way, save the fringe that kept falling forward to veil his eyes in an enigmatic, mysterious way. They shone bright when he looked up to smile at Remus. 'Alright Remus? Went to get your insulin shot?'

Remus gulped and nodded. 'Yes.' He said. He couldn't tell them why he really went to see Pomfrey every week. It was too embarrassing and besides, would involve telling them all about why he had to see her. He wasn't ready just yet to admit why he had been chased from his home; what had been done to him … why his parents, though they desperately wanted to trust him, couldn't after what he had inflicted upon himself.

'I've always wondered what it would be like to do heroin.' Sirius wondered aloud, tapping his plush lower lip with an index finger.

Remus laughed. 'And how does that relate to me or what we were speaking about even?'

Sirius shrugged. 'Just thought for a moment...' He paused and sat down between Peter and James, directly opposite the very object of his shy thoughts. He assessed Remus silently whilst the other boy pulled out a sandwich and some water.

Sirius wasn't completely sure what it was about the other boy that had him quite intrigued. Maybe it was just because of how different he was: a country boy, determined and dedicated and with a history that spanned for aeons of time.

Suddenly, there was shouting and arguing. And before Sirius knew it, his ears were filled with the sounds of cheering; screaming; shouting - _there was a fight._

And fights never happened in Hogwarts. Some students had too much in store; others were rich and pompous but just not willing to face the consequences.

Screaming rung like church bells in Sirius's ears. His ears tuned to one conversation commencing not far from him. 'What's happening-'

'-uglus, fighting Rabastan I think. Not sure. God, I hope he gets a punch in-'

'Shit!-'

Voices, different conversations about the exact same thing were trembling and passing through the air. Sirius was so confused.

But then James grabbed him and shook him. 'Fuck, Sirius, it's Regulus!'

He remembered throwing people, young eleven year olds to the stronger eighteen year olds out of his way as he hurried to where the circle had formed. The teachers who were in the hall were failing to pry them apart.

So of course, Sirius had to do it for them. He pushed Benjy, ironically, and some of his other friends out of the way as he finally made his way into the centre of the circle where his brother was straddling another boy and punching him.

But suddenly, Lestrange had the upper hand and was pummelling Regulus's body - his arms, stomach, face-

Sirius pulled the slightly shorter boy off, and after a second of nothing but silence, he threw back his fist and gave Lestrange a hard, bruising punch. Then it was him and Regulus, stomping and kicking the other man. They were merciless, furious and much too strong for the other boy.

That was of course until Remus was suddenly behind him, James carrying Regulus away - they were saying the same things of course: STOP, YOU'RE GONNA GET IN TROUBLE, YOU'RE HURTING HIM...

And with the scent of Remus did Sirius finally manage to switch off and realise the repercussions of what he had just foolishly done. He watched as teachers ran past him to Rabastan's aid.

Turning around and screaming the foulest profanity he knew, Sirius shook his bruised hand and didn't fight back when Professor Slughorn, a large beefy science teacher, grabbed him by the ear and towed him away. The last thing Sirius properly remembered from his departure of the canteen was Regulus, being dragged by the ear; a short Flitwick shouting at him all the while.

And really, Sirius Black just couldn't restrain the laughter.

* * *

**A/N: **I'm so sorry for the long wait. I just started school again so I've been focusing on that primarily. That being said, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please review! They make me write faster. Thanks for all the lovely comments on the last chapter, see you at the next one.

xo


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